The Next Sequence
by samandfreddie38
Summary: It's all over, but it's not. It will never be over. And it doesn't take much more to break a person. Sequel to '24 Hours'. Sam&Freddie Multi-Chap.
1. Prologue: Before It Gets Worse

**If you haven't read '24 Hours' yet, please do. Otherwise NONE of this will make sense.**

**I'm finally home from my first year of college, and it feels good. Thanks for reading my stuff and I hope you like 'The Next Sequence'!**

**Prologue: Before It Gets Worse**

* * *

_Mine…minE…MINE_

"_Samantha. You are mine. Always will be…I am your master…You are mine…you both are…"_

"_Samantha, Samantha, Samantha…"_

_Clink._

_Swish._

_Clank._

_Zip._

_Flop._

_Pain. More pain. PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PA—_

Sam's eyes explode open, and her entire body practically lifts an inch above the bed, which of course sends a shock wave of searing pain throughout every limb. She bursts into tears, but not because of the pain.

And, of course, her door flies open.

Sam tries to hide her soaked face and screams, "Just leave me alone!"

Through her sobs and shrieking, she somehow hears the whispered, "Sam?"

Before she can stop herself, Sam turns her head to see that annoying ambulance boy.

"Did you not hear me? Go away!"

"It's okay. You'll be okay," he says softly, closing the door but keeping his distance.

Sam almost laughs through her tears. "Yeah. It'll all go away. It's all over. Shut _up_," she hisses. "You have no IDEA what I went through!" She sniffs back a lot of snot in her nose, and feels humiliated and scared and helpless.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, that'll fix it," she sarcastically bites back. She turns her pounding head away from him and bites down on her lip in an attempt to stop crying.

"Do you need to talk to someone? I can get the hospital's psychologi—"

"I'M NOT SOME PSYCHO CHICK!" Sam screams, whipping her head back to glare at him. "Just because I've gone through stuff doesn't mean I have to develop PTSD or something!" She feels the scratch below her eye rip open a little, and the tears are soaking through the bandages. Sam hates it, but bursts into another round of tears anyway.

As if she wasn't overwhelmed enough, the door opens again.

"Sam?"

Her breath catches mid-sob, and her eyes close.

"Sam, what happened? Do you need me to get a doct—"

She turns to look at the two guys that won't seem to leave her alone. "Doesn't anyone get that I don't want anybody here? You aren't even supposed to be here! LEAVE ME ALONE! GET _OUT_!"

"Sam—" Seth starts.

"GO!"

Sam feels like an angsty teenager in some soap opera, but she can't let it bother her right now when so much else is. She hears footsteps and the click of the door closing.

Somehow their absence doesn't bring her any relief, so she cries some more.

* * *

After the door closes, Freddie can still hear her screams, and he furiously rubs his eyes. "Aren't there any nurses or doctors around here?"

The boy next to him shrugs. "Uh, I'm not sure."

Freddie finally snaps back to complete awareness and asks, "Wait, who are _you_? Some nurse assistant? Help her!"

The boy rubs the back of his neck. "Ah, actually, I just got off of my shift working as an ambulance assistant's assistant. It's a summer internship thing."

Freddie looks incredulously at him. "How _old_ are you? If the hospital is hiring people this young, maybe Sam shouldn't be here!"

"I start my first year of grad school in the fall."

Then something else clicks for Freddie. "Wait, is what Sam said true? Are you even supposed to _be_ here?"

"Well, I technically don't have access, but my dad works here so…"

Freddie doesn't like this guy. "What's your name?"

"Seth."

"Last?" Freddie gives him a bitter 'hel_lo_' look.

"Sorenson."

"How do you even know Sam?"

"I was in the ambulance car with my dad on the way to the hospital with her."

Freddie's eyes squint. "I think you should leave."

Seth seems taken aback. "Uh, okay. Nice meeting you, uh…"

"Freddie," he snaps.

"Freddie." Seth takes a few steps away, and then turns back around. "Hey, do you have some webshow or something?"

"Yeah, so?" Freddie knows he's being rude, but he _really_ doesn't like this guy.

"My kid brother watches you every week. He loves it."

"Fantastic," he flatly replies.

"So, maybe I'll see you around, Freddie."

"Maybe." _You better hope not._

* * *

The door opens. _Again_.

"I thought I said go _away_!"

"I'm just a nurse, sweetheart."

Sam opens her sticky eyes and turns her head.

"Your friend Freddie told me you were awake."

"And I told him that I wanted to be alone," Sam growls.

"I just need to take some routine vitals tests and I'll be on my way." She looks so old that Sam doesn't know if she'd do more harm than good.

"Do you have any pain meds?" _Great question to ask an incapable nurse, you moron._

"We gave you some a little while ago, so we'll have to wait a bit." Sam squeezes her eyes shut when the nurse inserts a needle into the inside of her good elbow for blood.

"But I hurt everywhere. A _lot_." _Stop complaining, you baby._ Sam hates that stupid voice in her head. "Especially my elbow."

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry. And that's to be expected. Your elbow was the most serious injury, and it'll take the longest to heal."

"Fantastic," Sam mutters. "How long?"

"Over two months." The nurse slowly pulls the needle out of Sam's arm.

"_Over_ that?" Sam's eyes pop open. "I thought it was like six to eight weeks tops for broken bones!"

"Well…" the nurse hesitates and puts a band-aide on the tiny hole in Sam's skin. "It was more than a break. It was in really bad shape."

Sam feels like crying again, but she doesn't know why. "Oh," she chokes out.

She catches a glimpse of the woman's nametag. "You'll recover soon enough, hun," Nurse Judd says. "You'll be out of here before you know it."

"I doubt it," Sam grumbles.

"We'll take good care of you." Nurse Judd wheels over a tray of food near the bed that Sam hadn't even noticed. "Now let's eat."

"I can do it myse—" Sam starts, but then realizes what she's saying. "Sorry." She then mentally kicks herself for sounding like a pathetic little girl.

"Now what would you like first? We have peas, mashed potatoes, chicken, Jell-O…"

That feeling Sam had when she thought her brains were going to be blown out of her skull floods over her. That panic of not having enough time to accept her death, of having everyone see her go out that way, of never going home again and never seeing Carly or Spencer or even her sister. It's all back. She can't breathe; her throat closes up and an elephant sits on her chest. Blood drains from her skull, and nausea hits her like a tsunami wave.

"Samantha, dear?"

Nothing but a little bit of air makes it out. Nurse Judd springs into action, her wrinkled hands grabbing a bucket that had been sitting in the corner and whisking it under Sam's chin. Just in time.

Sam vomits out whatever is in her stomach, not able to take that panic. Her entire body feels like it's trembling. _Am I having a heart attack? Am I dying? Now that I'm actually in a hospital, for crying out loud!_

The throwing up stops after a few seconds, but Sam's chest is still convulsing in response to that fear. The thought of actually dying. Right then and there. It was awful. And it's all back.

Sam gasps for air after a minute, and Nurse Judd tries to keep a calm tone. "It's alright, that's perfectly alright, Samantha. Just breathe. Don't worry about it…"

And then Freddie bursts into the room.

"What happened? Is she okay?"

"Sir, I need to ask you to leave. She's fine."

"It sure doesn't look like it!"

"Sir, please—"

"Sam, please talk to me," she hears him beg. She refuses to raise her eyes, still trying to return to normal breathing. "Look at me, _some_thing!"

Nurse Judd presses a button and gets up. "Sir, I'm going to have to escort you out…"

"I'm here for you Sam," Freddie backs up. "You're not alone."

A few more seconds of empty promises slip by, and a security guard comes to take Freddie by the arm and leads him away.

Nurse Judd closes the door and returns to her seat. "You alright, dear?"

Sam slowly nods and swallows. "I just had a freak attack or something. Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

Sam starts to feel like Nurse Judd is the normal grandmother she never got to have.

"How's your stomach feeling?"

Sam takes in another shaky breath. "Bad."

"Maybe Jell-O? It'll be better to get something in you. I have some water too, of course."

Sam's eyes land on the portion of chicken, and she starts feeling panicky again. Something about it reminds her of what _she_ could have ended up as.

"Could you cover the tray, please?" she manages.

The nurse complies. "Does the smell bother you?"

Sam lies and nods. "Water would be great."

* * *

"I'm really scared, Freddie," Carly whispers as she takes the seat beside him in the waiting room.

He immediately knows what she's referring to. That denial and shock when Spencer told them was overwhelming. "Me too."

"Do you think she knows yet?"

Freddie shrugs. "No idea. She has enough to deal with right now." He rests his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms.

"It's not your fault," Carly tries.

Freddie just shakes his head. "I just feel so _bad_. I don't know how else to explain it. She's practically in a freaking body cast!"

"She'll get better." Carly sniffles. "It'll take time."

"Maybe her bones, sure." Freddie lifts his head. "But what if she's pregnant? Or has an STD? That stuff doesn't just _go away_."

Carly shrugs and remains silent. She hates how mad and lost he sounds.

* * *

Something in Nurse Judd's pocket buzzes. After she glances at the pager, she looks at Sam's haggard face. "I have to take care of something real quick; it shouldn't take more than five minutes. Are you okay until I get back?"

Sam grimaces. "Could you ask the doctor how soon I can have the pain meds? It really hurts. Everywhere."

The nurse attempts a sympathetic smile. "Of course." The door softly clicks shut behind her.

It takes Sam a few seconds to realize that the nurse left her clipboard behind on the cart next to the food tray. She feels her chest give a little kick.

_Look at it._

It only takes a moment's hesitation before she gives in, but it involves a lot of squinting and painful leaning.

_Oh. No._

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she expected as much. It's not like she forgot she was raped. The burning and the shame are constant reminders. The STD and pregnancy tests are routine, right? The odds of getting either are low for just one time, at least she's heard. She still has over a week to mentally brace herself for taking the tests. Nothing to worry about. That demon didn't even ha—

_No._

_NO._

_What?_

Denial and horror prove to be an interesting combination. Although she doesn't have another panic attack like before, Sam comes pretty close.

_Wha—this has to be wrong…how do I know that I'm even reading this chart right? I've already had enough happen to me; it just wouldn't be possible for this to be…and right after all of that hell! I'm reading something wrong. There's just no _way _that—_

But she reads it five times over, and it doesn't change. Her eyes close.

_Please, let me die now before it gets worse. Please._

Please_._

* * *

**Please review, they really make my day. Thank you to the 'Epilogue: Aftermath' reviewers of '24 Hours': 'SeddieFan99', 'Nkcandygirl', 'Kezziexx', 'Seddieforlife', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'irishfan62', 'hejk12345', 'Kyle McShade', 'Savannah', 'SeddieWeasley', 'secretwritergirl', 'Seddie is the new purple', 'selfless seddie', 'JJLHOTITEM1', 'seddie perfection', 'Lauren', 'twnklingsediestr', and 'TheAngeloflego'.**

'**Savannah' – thanks so much! No fear; the sequel is here! Btw, I rhyme like a boss :D**

'**selfless seddie' – thanks so much! I feel for him about the personal problems; me having many of my own…heh. It's really tough to act okay on the outside when on the inside it's a complete mess. Would he even want to hear from me? And thank you again :)**

'**Lauren' – thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're so sweet.**

'**twnklingsediestr' – how so? Or do you mean Seth? Thanks so much!**


	2. Chapter One: She Doesn't See

**Thank you all so much for the reviews and story faves/alerts already! I don't deserve this. But keep doing it please! Haha.**

**Chapter One: She Doesn't See**

* * *

_Hasn't enough already happened?_

Apparently not.

"Nurse Judd!" Sam frantically shouts, immediately scrunching her nose because she hates the way she sounds. She sounds like someone who actually respects authority figures. And she sure as hell _doesn't_.

"Nurse!" Sam promises herself that she'll find out what else to call that woman. Because what she's randomly blurting out now isn't going to p—

"Samantha, dear, are you alright?"

Finally.

"H-hi," Sam stutters. _This burden is too heavy to bear alone._ "Do you know if there's anyone in the waiting room for me?"

"I was just in there. There's that boy who was in your room before. I also saw a brunette sitting next to him. A pretty young thing, she is." Nurse Judd sits in her chair next to Sam's bed.

"Carly!" Sam's heart leaps. "Could you send her in? Her name's Carly."

"Sure thing, hun." Nurse Judd pats Sam's good shoulder, and Sam's skin crawls.

"What's your first name?" she blurts out of nervousness.

"Mary." The woman smiles. "You can call me that if you'd like." And with that, Mary leaves the room to bring Sam her true sister.

* * *

"Carly?" Some old woman is walking toward her.

"Yeah?" she responds cautiously.

"Your friend Samantha wants to see you, hun."

Carly's heart jumps, and so does Freddie out of his seat. "What about me? Did she say anything about Freddie?"

The woman gives him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I think Samantha's in the mood for some girl-talk," she says, giving Carly a wink.

"But—"

"Freddie," Carly interrupts him impatiently. "I'll get her to see you after we talk, okay?"

It's not really okay, she can tell, but he sits back down, arms folded across his chest. "Please do."

* * *

"Sam?" The door hesitantly creaks open.

"Carls!"

The dark-haired girl then explodes into the room, a smile dominating her face. "Hi!" She rushes over to the bed after letting the door shut behind her. "It's so nice to hear your voice!"

Carly leans over and carefully hugs her best friend. Even though she's barely touching Sam, the latter's chest tightens. Sam feels her armpits start to sweat and her breath start to shake. She bites her lip, trying not to react.

Carly pulls away, and it only takes a split second to see Sam's face to notice that something is wrong. Her eyes widen. "Did I hurt you? Oh my God, I'm so—"

"No," Sam whimpers, hating the weak noises that her mouth seems to be producing now. "I—I'm not weak."

Carly snorts, almost making Sam smile. "Trust me, I know that."

"But…" Sam trails off, biting her lip again.

"What?" Carly sits down near the head of the bed and clasps her hands together. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

That reminds Sam of the other thing she has to tell Carly, but one tragedy at a time. _Pace yourself_.

"Whenever someone touches me…I just—I hate it. I _hate_ it." Sam looks down at her white bed sheets, wishing she could move her hands to fiddle with the cloth.

"Oh." Carly leans back, momentarily stunned. She sits back up. "Well, that's normal, right? You've been through…enough."

"Yeah, but I swore that I wouldn't be like those cliché soap opera characters that have PTSD reactions after some stupid traumatic event and—"

"Hey, give yourself a break, Sam!" Carly interrupts. "It's okay to feel those sort of things. They could be completely temporary for all you know. And not to bring up a sore topic, but," she swallows. "You really have been through something traumatic."

Sam suddenly feels really tired. If she could shrug, she would in that moment.

Carly squints. "Something else is eating at you. I can tell."

When Sam instantly pales, the brunette panics. "Oh, uh—should I call for a nurse? I didn't mean to—"

"No," Sam manages. "No. It's…it's just something that I probably shouldn't have seen."

"Huh?"

Sam swallows, the cut on her throat sending a shock wave of pain to her chest. She winces. "I saw something on my nurse's clipboard."

When Sam stops there, Carly leans in closer. "And…what did it say?"

"It was a preliminary autopsy report, Carly," Sam whispers. Carly starts to bite away at her nails. "Of the guy who…did this."

"What did it say?"

Sam starts crying. "He…he had…"

Carly pales. "Had what?"

Sam sniffles, struggling to regain her composure. "He had…he had HIV."

"_What_?" her friend squeaks.

"What if I got it?" Sam feels her chest tighten again. "It kills you, right?"

"No," Carly insists, rapidly shaking her head.

"Wait, it doesn't?"

"No, I mean—" Carly clears her throat. "You didn't get it. There's no way. It just can't…_be_."

"I think the universe hates me already, Carls," Sam replies grimly. "I'm sure it won't have a problem—"

"No!" Carly booms. "You don't have it. You're fine!"

"Carly…"

A tear slips from the brunette's right eye. "You're fine," she says, though less firmly this time.

The two girls sit there in silence for a minute, not knowing what to do.

"Freddie really wants to see you," Carly blurts.

"Oh, uh…" Sam begins.

"You can't avoid him forever."

_If only_. "But—"

"Please?" Carly tries giving Sam her notorious puppy-dog eyes. "For me?"

Carly's trying so hard to make the situation seem normal, which depresses Sam even further. But she plays along, giving in. "Okay. Send the nub in."

* * *

The boy practically falls through the door, rushing to get into the room. But once he sees her, all the words he's practiced just disintegrate from his memory.

They basically just stare at each other for a few seconds, until Sam raises her eyebrows.

"H-hi," he stutters, softly pushing the door shut and slowly making his way toward her.

"'Sup." Her face gets unbearably hot, and she prays that it's not showing.

Freddie sighs, looking at her battered skin. The scratches from God knows what weapon look horrible. "Does it…does your face hurt?"

"Gee, you sure know how to flatter a girl," Sam sarcastically bites.

"No—I meant, uh…you have a lot of…uh…" He shuts up and sits in the chair previously occupied by Carly.

"Believe me, I know what's on my face. I was there," she bitterly retorts.

Freddie swallows and looks at her with those eyes she despises and needs. "Sam…"

"That's my name. Don't wear it out."

Freddie gives her a look. "Sam, stop. I…I want to talk. _Actually_ talk."

Sam wants to shrug, hating the fact that she can't. "Okay, then talk."

He scoots closer, making her cheeks light on fire. "I…I'm sorry."

When she's quiet, Freddie feels compelled to fill the silence. "I should have gotten there sooner and I should've known that changing my stupid apartment number wasn't going to solve anything and I'm sorry that you're in here right now and I'm sorry that he did all of this to you and I hate that…" he pauses for a breath. "I hate all of this," he finishes.

"Me too," Sam mumbles.

Freddie reaches out and takes Sam's good hand in his. "Look, I—"

Sam inhales sharply, instinctively whipping her hand away from his. An unimaginably immense wave of pain courses through her injured elbow. She cries out in pain.

His eyes widen. "I—I'm…I didn't—uh…"

Sam's teeth grind together, and she regains her composure after a minute. "Don't…don't do that."

"Okay," he gets out.

Silence.

He takes that time to graze his dark eyes over her matted blonde hair and narrow frame underneath her hospital gown. Freddie ends up inspecting her face, and at the same moment he gets to her eyes, she finally musters up the courage to look at him.

They both look away, faces flushed.

"I missed you," Freddie whispers.

Her heart pounds, but she does what Sam Puckett does best—brushes off the sappy comments. "I was gone for all of a day, Fredbag."

_Again with the names_. Freddie feels a whale weigh down his heart. "It was a really long day. I was really worried, and it seemed like nothing I did was working—"

"What were you doing?"

Freddie looks down. "That stupid Shadow Hammer guy was giving me hints to your location and to his identity…sometimes they were total crud, but…I don't know. I didn't put it all together fast enough."

Sam forces herself to look at him. "He was torturing you too."

They make eye contact. "It was nothing compared to…" he trails off. Sam feels naked, like Freddie's eyes are searing through her, knowing her every thought, dream, desire, fear.

She snaps out of the trance his eyes have her under and snaps, "My rape? My arms? My legs? My stomach? My hideous _face_?"

Her glare could wilt flowers. "Sam…please forgive me," he whispers, trying not to cry. Then he suddenly hears all of what she said. "Wait, what happened to your stomach?"

Sam draws in a breath a little too quickly. "Nothing. Scratches."

"Sam…"

Every time he says her name is like a sword piercing her chest and setting it on fire. "Just scratches."

"You can tell me." He reaches for her hand again but pulls back at the last moment. "Tell me," he urges.

"Nothing. Just…just some burns. Nothing serious."

How had he not seen them before at the showdown at the music store?

Freddie practically chokes, rage darkening his eyes. "He _burned_ you?"

"It didn't hurt," she lies. "It's fine."

"Stop it, Sam. This is serious. Did the doctors—"

"I don't know, ask them," she says halfheartedly.

Freddie's anger begins to melt away, replaced with grief. "Sam, you can tell me anything. I'm here for you, and I'm never g—"

"Yeah right, like you were a couple days ago?" she explodes. "How could you just give up on me like that?" The hurt in her eyes is more than Freddie can take.

"What? I never gave up trying to find you!"

"Then why did you say it?" she shouts, tears streaming down her face and bandage. "_Why_?"

"Say _what_?" Freddie asks, but deep down, he knows.

"That…that you…you know what you said!" Sam attempts to sit up in her bed, but fails. "How _could_ you? You gave up! It had only been less than a day and you'd already decided that I wasn't worth looking for!"

"That's not true," he protests, wishing he could just wrap her in his arms and take her away from all of this.

"You decided that you were never going to see me again!"

"Sam—"

"And don't even _try_ to tell me that it was just a precautionary measure. I could hear it in your voice!" Just looking at him is more painful than the injury in her elbow.

"I had a deadline!" he blurts, immediately regretting it.

That stops her shouting. "What?"

Freddie wants to look at his feet so badly but forces himself to look at her beautiful blue eyes that were now filled with betrayal and anger and fear.

"He was only giving me a day to find you," Freddie whispers. "I knew it would be the last time he would let me speak to you, and…and it just came out because I only had three hours left to find you and…and…" He lets out a shaky breath. "I only had one second. I panicked."

More tears stream down her face. Sam hates crying in front of him. "So you didn't mean it."

"What?"

"You didn't know what you were doing, and you just blurted out something—"

"No, I…" Freddie hesitates. This isn't really the time or place or circumstance that he'd like to say it. He doesn't want it to seem forced.

Sam's heart springs into her throat, threatening to cut off her oxygen supply. She wants to punch him square in the jaw; these stupid casts are already a living nightmare. He stopped. He didn't deny it. He didn't mean it. Just a parting gift, so she could be "at peace" when she died. Did he know what she felt for him? Was it guilt? Was it pity?

Well screw that.

"I'm tired," she announces, closing her eyes.

"Sam…" she hears him say. But she doesn't see. She doesn't see the pain and desire and panic in his eyes. She doesn't see his hand reach for her cheek, pulling back again before he could touch and then hovering over her face. She doesn't see him mouth the words.

And she doesn't see him cry as he leaves the room.

* * *

**Woo! *wipes sweat from brow* That's a long…and depressing…chapter for y'all! The first reviewers of 'The Next Sequence' are: 'SeddieFan99', 'nadene-seddiefan', '123fan', 'Julziexx3', 'iShip Seddie', 'Seddieperfection', 'green aura', 'Guest', 'KrisLovesSeddie', 'twnklingsediestr', 'selfless seddie', 'irishfan62', 'Lauren', 'hejk12345', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'jimbo74', 'Seddie is the new purple', 'Kyle McShade', 'Apollo Child', 'PinaySeddier', and 'Irene113'. ALSO THANK YOU TO THE MOST RECENT REVIEWERS OF '24 HOURS'. I try to reply when you have a FF account but can't if you don't…so…sorry!**

'**123fan' – really? Thank you so much! I will indeed. I BETTER. Otherwise my self-discipline efforts will be for nothing :)**

'**Seddieperfection' – bahahaha I have a new title. The Anonymous Tearing-Families-Apart FF Writer. Get back to your folks! Hahaa love you.**

'**Guest' – thank you!**

'**twnklingsediestr' – yeah! You've made it (hopefully) another week! =]**

'**selfless seddie' – I'm getting better, but thank you! Alright, I can try! Thanks.**

'**Lauren' – I'M SERIOUSLY EXCITED TO READ YOUR RESPONSES TO THE STORY. Thanks so much, I guess you haven't been out much to the other FF site writers XD**

'**Apollo Child' – hehe yes. It wouldn't be me if it weren't…I'm evil.**

'**Irene113' – thanks so much! Yep, one year down! Now the current issue is finding a summer job! Not going well… :/**


	3. Chapter Two: Hurry Up

**Last Saturday I had to clean out the entire garage, and by the end of the day, I hurt. BAD. EVERYWHERE. But reading all your reviews made it easier to recover, heh. I think I got one of the highest number of reviews for a chapter for me! Thanks so much!**

**Chapter Two: Hurry Up**

* * *

"Carly, what the _HELL_!"

The woman at the waiting room's front desk shushes him, and Freddie glares at her.

"Freddie, are you okay?" Carly can see how red and puffy his eyes are. Spencer is sitting next to her.

"So you just neglected to mention that we can't _touch_ her or something?" he shouts, earning another warning from the desk lady.

"I—I forgot," she whimpers. "I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_?"

"Young man, I need you to—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll shut up," Freddie brushes the woman off. He drags a chair to where the Shays are sitting.

"Freddie, please don't be mad…"

He can see the hurt in Carly's eyes and how she's trying so hard to hold it all in, and he softens. "Sorry."

"I'm assuming your visit with Sam didn't go well?" Spencer speaks up, allowing Carly to regain her composure.

Freddie wants to make some sarcastic remark about how no, it was all unicorns and rainbows in Sam's room, but he just couldn't. "No," he sighs.

Spencer looks disappointed. "So should we go home? I'm guessing she doesn't want to talk to anyone else today."

Freddie shrugs, looking at the floor. "It's probably just me. You can see her if you want." Spencer immediately leaps up and disappears deeper into the hospital.

"What did you two fight about this time?" Carly asks softly.

He avoids the question. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Carls. I'm just stressed out."

She shrugs. "We all are."

Freddie wants to tell her that, no, it's not the same for her as it is for him. But he shuts up.

"But I get it," Carly continues halfheartedly. "With you being in love with her and all."

He's too tired to respond.

* * *

When she hears her door open, Sam thinks, _Dang it. I should have kept my eyes closed._

Then Sam sees who it is. "Oh, it's just you."

"Ouch," Spencer feigns hurt.

She manages a weak smile. "Hey, Spence."

"Hey champ. How're you doing?"

Sam rolls her eyes. "Well, I'm not dead."

"That's a start," he replies, planting himself in a chair.

"I guess." Not being able to shrug her shoulders is getting really annoying real fast.

Spencer impatiently blurts what he's been aching to know. "So what happened between you and Freddie?"

Her eyes narrow and she bitterly asks, "What, did he throw a little tantrum or something?"

"He was crying."

Sam blinks. "Huh."

"He's lost and angry and sad too, Sam."

"So now you're on _his_ side?"

Spencer's eyebrows come together. "What? No! Why do there have to be sides?"

_Because that's how it's always been._

"I'm just saying maybe you could give him a break. I may not know the whole story, but he cares about you. Don't shut him out."

Sam raises her eyebrows. "You sound like a shrink, Spencer."

He blinks. "Huh."

"You don't know the whole story. And I don't really feel like describing the last couple days of my life right now."

Spencer nods. "I get it. I just wanted to visit you and…just give him a chance, alright?"

"Spencer!"

"Sorry. But…maybe?"

She sighs. "Sure, just give me fifty years." She can feel her heartbeat pounding at her rib cage.

Realizing there's not much else he can do, and seeing the bags under her eyes—well, maybe they're bruises—Spencer stands up. "Get some sleep, Sam. I'll be back."

"Whatever." Sam winces at the tone of her voice. "Okay."

Spencer gives her a grin, and somehow she knows that he gets it.

* * *

The next day, Sam wakes up and sees her best friend smiling at her.

"Creepy, Carls," Sam mumbles, trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

"Oh, sorry," she giggles. "So I dropped by your place this morning and picked up your mail. You had a lot. Well, I guess that's reasonable since no one's been home for a few days…"

_She's rambling again,_ Sam thinks.

"Most are bills, but one is some sort of package for you."

"Oh my God," Sam whispers.

Carly warily eyes her. "What is it?"

Sam closes her eyes. "Frothy."

"Oh! Oh don't worry about him, Sam. He's fine." Sam opens her eyes, relieved. "He managed to get into…various…food supplies. And he was just as rabid as ever." Carly grins.

"That's my boy."

"So that takes care of that." Carly looks around the room. "Where do you want the mail?"

"Well," Sam responds sarcastically. "Since I'll be paying my bills while I'm here…"

Carly gives her a look. "Alright, whatever. I'll leave the package here and take the rest back home with me."

"Thanks."

Silence. And then—

"Please forgive Freddie."

Sam wishes she could throw her arms in the air. "Is he putting you all up to this? It's pathetic."

"No, it's just…he's just really upset."

Sam's cheeks turn red. Maybe from anger. Maybe not. "Well he's not the one stuck here, unable to move and in pain and possibly having a deadly disease now, is he?"

Carly sighs. "I know. I'm sorry."

Sam just glares at a random spot in her white sheets.

"Can you tell me what you fought about?"

Huh, that was a brave move. Sam looks at her and sees that she's practically cowering in her seat. With a frown, she replies, "Whatever."

"Really?" Carly's eyes widen.

"He gave up, Carls. I was still missing and he just gave up trying to find me because it was just SO hard," Sam bites.

The brunette's head tilts. "What? That doesn't sound like Freddie. Especially because…" Carly trails off, trying not to panic.

"Because what, Carly?" Sam's eyes narrow.

"Because of his personality," she blurts. "You know, the perseverant and hardworking nerd type."

Sam just grunts.

_Nice save, Shay! _Carly congratulates herself. "Well, anyway. Did he admit to it?"

Sam thinks. "Not verbally. But he didn't deny…okay, well, he did. But you could just tell!"

Carly raises her eyebrows. "Uh-huh."

"I'm serious!"

"Just talk it out, okay?" Carly's arms cross over her chest. "I don't like you guys fighting. Not like this, anyway."

"Whatever," Sam grumbles.

"I mean it, Sam! Look, he said he didn't give up and I've known Freddie long enough to know that he doesn't lie and…oh for goodness sake, he was _crying_!"

"Yeah, but—"

"But _what_?"

_But I didn't tell you about…about what he said to me. And how it _was_ a lie._

Sam sighs. "Nothing," she lies.

"Good." Carly shifts in her chair. "Look, just talk to him, alright? You don't have to forgive anything, just…just listen to each other."

Sam does a mental shoulder-shrug. "Whatever."

* * *

_Cheese. I slept in_.

But what difference does that make? It's not like he has anything important to look forward to today.

Freddie slowly completes his morning routine, and once he's dressed and clean and his mother checks his hygiene, much to his disdain, he takes the elevator down to the mailroom. Insert the key, twist, pull, and take. Push, twist, remove key.

Yawn.

Freddie ignores Lewbert's screams and gets back in the elevator, punching the 8. He shuffles through the mail. Bill, magazine, his mom's aggressive parenting thing, another bill, advertisement, bill, bill…

A package?

Freddie opens the manila material and unwraps the protective packing sheets.

"What the…?"

A CD?

He flips the packaging upside down, but there's no return address. Probably his grandmother again sending him yet _another_ album of baby pictures. And it'll most likely be another repeat of something she's already sent.

He sighs.

The elevator dings and he places the stack of envelopes and booklets on the living room coffee table for his mother to deal with. Freddie inspects the CD. There's no writing on it.

"Well, I've got nothing better to do," he mumbles to himself, going to his room and opening his laptop. He inserts the CD and waits for iPhoto to show up.

But it doesn't.

There's just an audio track.

"Aw, grandma…" Freddie moans. "What is _on_ here?" His first words? His mother singing songs to him as she washed him in the tub? He presses play.

"_Oh Samantha. Samantha, Samantha, Samantha."_

Freddie freezes.

"_You are mine. Always will be."_

Screaming.

_I'm NOT yours! I'm not _anyone's! _Let me _GO!"

He should turn it off. But he can't move.

Laughter. _"But aren't you Freddie's little girl toy?"_

He feels sick to his stomach.

"_NO! THAT'S THE _LAST _THING I'D _EVER _WANT TO BE!"_

"_Hmm. I don't believe you."_

Freddie tries to figure out how this could be happening.

"_Well that's too bad! Never in my life will I _ever_ belong to someone! I hate Freddie, I hate you, I hate _everyone! _They're all self-centered morons! I'll always be on my own! I'll always be alone until you finally kill me! And when's that going to be, hot shot? HUH? WHEN ARE YOU FINALLY GO—"_

Chills go up Freddie's spine.

"_Soon. Very soon."_

It stops. It's over.

Freddie sucks in air for the first time since the recording started. He slams his finger on the eject button and when the CD slides out, instantly crushes it into tens of pieces with his fingers, breaking skin at some places.

But her voice is still there. He'll never forget it.

How on Earth is this even _possible_? The Shadow Hammer is _DEAD_!

"Mail takes a few days to get here, Freddie," he tells himself, numb and in a daze.

"_I hate Freddie!"_

He slaps both hands over his ears, but the source is internal.

Freddie pales at a sudden thought. _Oh my God. What if Sam got one?_

"No, I didn't say anything bad," he tries to tell himself. But then he remembers. And all the blood comes rushing from his skull.

Freddie half-sprints half-staggers out of his room, swipes the car keys off the kitchen counter, and stumbles out the door.

* * *

It's empty.

Freddie panics, actually sticking his head inside Sam's mailbox, as if that would make the package appear. "No…no…_no_!"

He speed-dials Carly's number. It rings for centuries.

_Sam's in the hospital. There's no way she could listen to it._

_The Shadow Hammer planned on killing Sam. Why would he send her something?_

"Hello?"

"Carly! Where's Sam's mail?"

"What? Why?"

"JUST TELL ME!" he screams.

"Aaah, my ear! God, Freddie! It's here with me in the apartment." Freddie sighs, somewhat relieved. "Well, most of it is."

"What?" he asks lowly, dangerously.

"Well, there was something in there that wasn't a bill and it was addressed to her specifically, so I left it with her." Carly gasps. "Oh, good news by the way! I convinced Sam to try talking to you again!"

Something inside Freddie dies. "What was inside of that something?"

He hears her hesitation. "Why? I don't know. Is everything okay?"

Pale and shaking, Freddie makes his way back to his car, praying that she doesn't open it before he gets to the hospital. "No. No it's not."

* * *

Sam keeps staring at that stupid package near her bedside and looks up at Mary, who's carefully changing a bandage on her face. Apparently she got the message about the no-touching rule too, undoubtedly from Carly. Sam barely feels anything. But she's still nervous.

"Uh, Mary?"

The woman snaps her hands away. "Yes, dear?"

"Can you just open that stupid package? I wanna know what's in it."

"Sure." A few rips and tears later: "Um, a CD darling."

Sam's eyebrows fly up. Why would someone send her a CD?

Well, who cares? She could use some music right now. Her nerves are _beyond_ fried.

"This sounds dumb, but does the hospital have a CD player and headphones by any chance?"

"I'm afraid not," Mary says with a sympathetic smile.

Sam grunts her displeasure.

Then it's as if a light bulb goes on over the nurse's head. "There's a radio in the ground floor's storage room; patients like listening to it sometimes. I think there might be a CD player built into it. One second, hun. I'll be right back."

She disappears and Sam feels a loose bandage on her forehead slip and fall on her nose. She wrinkles it, but the bandage stays put, along with the itchy feeling. Sam lets out an angry and impatient breath.

"Well, hurry up."

* * *

**I love 'SeddieFan99', 'Guest', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'iShip Seddie', 'unquestionable-honour', 'irishfan62', 'its-ackim95', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie' (x2), 'Daniella', 'johnp1299', 'TheAngeloflego', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'selfless seDdie', 'KrisLovesSeddie', 'Lauren', 'jimbo74', 'green aura', 'Kyle McShade', 'Julziexx3', 'GoingNuts', 'akarandomfang', 'this little heart of mine', 'hejk12345', 'twnklingsediestr', and 'secretwritergirl'.**

'**Guest' – aw, sorry. Thanks! Because that's typical for a Seddie story on FF bahaha XD**

'**Daniella' – thanks so much!**

'**selfless seDdie' – ahh I keep forgetting to PM him…stupid busy-ness. I will eventually! And thank you.**

'**Lauren' – teehee yay. Thanks! I never get tired of hearing it =]**

'**twnklingsediestr' – definitely. Aw, thanks so much!**


	4. Chapter Three: About to Explode

**Hey all, happy Saturday.**

**Chapter Three: About to Explode**

* * *

Sam practically has a heart attack when he bursts into the room, all sweaty and panting and panicked.

Freddie studies Sam while regaining his breath. She's just staring at him. She hasn't said a single word. Has she listened to the CD already?

"Well?" Sam snaps.

His heart thuds. "Uh…hi."

She narrows her eyes. "Why are you panting?"

He still doesn't know what she knows. "I, uh, running," he gets out in between breaths.

One of Sam's eyebrows goes up, and Freddie doesn't know if it's because she knows or just because he looks like a truck hit him. "Carly told you, huh?" she bites.

_Told me what_? Freddie frantically thinks.

A woman enters the room. "Here's the—oh," she pauses, seeing Freddie. "I didn't know you had company. I'll just put it on the table, dear."

Freddie doesn't know whether to cheer or burst into tears when he sees that it's a CD-player type thing.

"Put the CD in," Sam orders the nurse. "Music sounds really good right now."

Freddie's eyes widen. "No!" He leaps and grabs the woman's arm, and she eyes him guardedly.

"I…uh…" he stumbles. "It…it's not music. I…it got sent by mistake."

The nurse looks at Sam. She instinctively starts to lift her shoulders, winces, and says, "That was a shrug." She looks at Freddie, trying not to turn red. "What's your deal?"

Nurse Judd pries her arm from the boy's grasp and exits the room, still giving him skeptical glances.

Freddie stalls by acting as if the woman leaving was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. He turns back to the blonde, momentarily losing his breath. Even in this state she's beautiful.

"Dude."

Freddie blinks and sees Sam's annoyed expression. "Are you gonna answer or what?"

He still doesn't know what to say. Freddie notices the bandage hanging on Sam's nose and walks toward her. She tries not to shrink away from him like some five year-old.

Making sure not to touch her, Freddie takes the cloth and lays it back over a deep cut on Sam's forehead. He accidentally grazes his hand against her matted blonde curls, and shivers run up his arm. He has that sudden urge to just kiss her and kiss her _hard._ Kiss her until all breath is lost. Wrap an arm around her tiny waist and pull her against him. Heal her wounds somehow with—

She says something, but he's so out of it that he doesn't understand.

"What?"

"I said 'personal space.'"

Freddie sees the tension in her neck and her stiff facial features and backs away. It breaks him to think that she's afraid. Afraid of human contact. Afraid of him.

He sits down in the chair beside her bed.

"Are you _ever_ going to answer me? What's on that CD? Is it from you?"

_C'mon, Freddie! Think!_

"Uh…yeah. I meant to send you something for…the next iCarly, and…I, uh, switched CDs. By accident." Hopefully that sounded convincing.

Sam doesn't say much for a while, and Freddie panics. This is it. She'll make him play it and she'll never speak to him again.

"So…what's on the thing?" she finally asks.

"Um…home videos," he blurts. "Stuff from when I was a baby. They're for my grandmother."

"Hmm," she grunts after a second. "That would've been interesting to listen to."

Freddie forces out a laugh. "I guess you would've liked that."

She sighs, trying to readjust her position in bed. "So let's get this over with."

"What?" he asks, cracking his neck and back. This chair isn't very comfortable.

"Carly didn't tell you?"

"Uh…"

Sam rolls her eyes, clearly irritated that she'd have to say it out loud. "She forced me to talk to you again. About…stuff."

"Oh. Right."

Silence.

"Well, _I'm_ not gonna start," she snaps.

Freddie feels his face turn red and inwardly curses. "Um…are you feeling better?" He immediately wants to facepalm.

"Peachy."

"Stupid question, right." Freddie searches for more words in his neurological dictionary.

"You didn't deny it," Sam suddenly says.

He blinks. "Deny what?"

"That you gave up."

Freddie's heart pounds at his ribcage. He doesn't want to lose her. But he doesn't want to lie to her. Again.

"I didn't," he blurts, instantly feeling a cloud of guilt suffocate him. "I didn't. I couldn't do that to you."

Sam swallows. "Are you lying?"

"No," he declares before he can stop himself. And for some reason, he says it again. "No."

Sam suddenly just feels like bursting into tears. She loves this stupid nub so much that it hurts. If these annoying casts and bandages weren't immobilizing her, she might have hugged him. Just to inhale his scent, feel his muscular arms envelope her, have his hot breath fall on her neck.

She blinks. _God, I'm such a girl_.

"Why won't you let anyone touch you?" Freddie impulsively blurts, then slaps a hand over his mouth. Sam's stomach clenches. "Sorry," he says in between his fingers. "That was completely…not cool."

For some reason, hot tears spring into her eyes, so she rapidly blinks them away. Or tries to, for that matter. "It's fine," she whispers.

Freddie sees a tear fall down her face and swears. "Sam, I didn't mean to. You can talk to me about anything, though. You have to believe that." His instinct is to wipe that tear away, but he knows that he can't.

"I just don't like it," she mumbles, but Freddie scooches his chair closer, and Sam gets a whiff of the scent of his skin. And suddenly, she only wants him to touch her. _Only_ him.

And she wants to tell him that, but the words don't come out. She's too embarrassed.

"I can't wait to get out of here, Freddie."

He smiles. "It won't be forever. Don't think that I've forgotten about our little race."

Sam remembers their running competition and gives Freddie a weak grin. "I think we'll have to push that back a few months."

Freddie laughs and nods. "If we have to." God, he just wants her. _All_ of her. He imagines what it would be like to _really_ kiss her; not like on the fire escape all those years ago, which felt platonic as hell. He wants to be lost in her for longer than eight seconds.

"Thanks for visiting, dork. And take your baby videos with you."

* * *

A soft knock. Much unlike Freddie's entrance an hour ago.

"Yeah," Sam shouts.

Ambulance Boy enters. "Uh…hey."

"You again." Sam presses her lips together.

Seth closes the door. "I feel so welcome."

Sam rolls her eyes. "Well I hardly know you, buddy. And you keep showing up."

He smiles. "Is it suddenly a crime to care?"

She just grumbles.

Seth glances at the table. "Nice…radio."

"Turn it on," she orders.

"Yes Master," he sarcastically replies. Sam glares at the back of his head.

Something by Imagine Dragons comes on, and Sam sighs happily, sinking into her pillow. "Yes."

"You like them?"

She looks at him. "You _know_ them?"

"Sure," he shrugs. "All cool people do. What's your favorite by them?"

Sam thinks. "'Demons.' Or maybe 'Bleeding Out.' You?"

He grins sheepishly. "'Radioactive.'"

"The mainstream one. Of course."

"Doesn't mean it's not still good," Seth insists.

"Whatever."

The door swings open. "Gibbaaaayyyyy!"

Sam sighs. "Hey, Gib."

"Woah," the boy's eyes widen when he sees her appearance. "You look horr—" He glances at his unbroken thumbs. "Uh, wonderful!" he finishes. "Awesome."

She just rolls her eyes.

"Who are you?" Seth asks.

"He's Gibby. A friend," Sam reluctantly admits.

"Gibbayyyy," the chubby guy nods.

"Uh, hi."

"Do you want me to come back later?" Gibby asks with a mischievous smile, wiggling his eyebrows. "So you two can have the room to yourselves?"

Sam's mortified, and Seth reddens. "What? Gibby, w—"

He puts his hands up, joyfully backing away. "No need. I'll be back in ten minutes. No naughty stuff!" He opens the door and slips out. "Gibby goooone!"

After a moment, Seth clears his throat. "Uh, nice guy."

Sam sighs. "He's a little off in the brain."

"Really?"

"Well," Sam falters. "He _must_ be. _Some_how."

* * *

"Freddie! You actually picked up this time," Carly complains. "What happened? Is everything okay? What was the whole mail thing about?"

He brakes at a red light and switches his cell phone to speaker when he sees a cop car pull up behind him. "Yeah, it's all fine. Nothing you need to worry about."

"But…you and Sam are…"

"Good. At least I think we are," Freddie adds as an afterthought.

"Well that's good. Come over?"

"Sure," Freddie says and presses the gas pedal as the light flashes to green. "I'm on my way from the hospital now. Give me like ten minutes."

"Okay."

"Uh, Carly?"

"Yeah?"

Freddie sighs, embarrassed. "I wish I could just…touch her, you know?"

"Me too," she whispers. "And she has to take those tests in a week."

His heart sinks. "Just one week now?"

"Yeah. God, what if she has HIV?"

Freddie's blood boils at the thought. "She doesn't. And she's not going to be pregnant either. Rape pregnancy rates are only like five percent or something for someone her age."

Silence. Then, "Uh, why do you know that?"

Freddie thinks. "I…I really don't know."

Carly scowls, and he can practically see her roll her eyes. "See you in ten."

"Okay."

* * *

He doesn't go across the hall to her place right away. He _has_ to know what's on that CD.

Freddie escapes to his room and inserts the CD into his computer.

"_Hello. Having a good hour?"_

Freddie swallows.

"_Depends. I'm giving up and forfeiting this game thing. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed."_

"_That's quite strange of you to do, Freddie, after your recent confession to our friend."_

"_Deal with it. I'm done."_

Laughter_. "Boy, we both know you're not. If you actually love that girl, you wouldn't."_

"_Well maybe I don't! It just came out! You gave me one second, you idiot! What was I _supposed_ to say?"_

Thank God she hadn't listened to this. Freddie's whole body is shaking.

Before he can take out the CD and crush it to bits, his mother shrieks his name and screams something about a mouse in the kitchen. He sighs and leaves his room with an empty cup to catch the little creature.

* * *

"Okay, now you're just messing with me," Sam insists.

"No, I'm serious! I listen to him all the time!"

"Oh really? Name _one_ song by him."

"'When a Heart Breaks.'" Seth says immediately.

She squints. "Another one."

"'Need You Tonight.'"

"Hmm. I'm impressed," Sam admits, leaning back.

"What, that I listen to Ben Rector?"

"No. In your taste in music overall."

Seth snorts. "Well I'm glad you approve, princess."

Sam freezes.

_Sam and Freddie stand next to that amazing locker. She offers him a bite of salami. He responds with a snort and, "No thanks, Princess Puckett."_

Seth calling her "princess" feels weird.

"Well they say that music fills the soul," Seth goes on to say. "So I guess our souls are about to explode with awesomeness."

He places a hand on her forearm.

* * *

**Thanks to the Chapter Two reviewers: 'iShip Seddie', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'seddie perfection', 'SeddieFan99', 'Lauren', 'johnp1299', 'hejk12345', 'Kezziexx', 'akarandomfang', 'Seddieforlife', 'jimbo74', 'selfless seDdie', 'green aura', 'TheAngeloflego', 'twnklingsediestr', 'irishfan62', 'unquestionable-honour', 'Seddie is the new purple', 'rimdsloveseddie', and 'LyshaLuvsSeddie'. **

'**Lauren' – thanks so much! I'm excited while reading your reviews!**

'**selfless seDdie' – haha I PM'd him and he said he doesn't know you :) and I doubt he'll start writing seddie again. And thanks.**

'**twnklingsediestr' – teehee I am the secret-keeper.**


	5. Chapter Four: Response

**Thanks so much to those who are reading and reviewing still, especially those who have been there from the very beginning.**

**Chapter Four: Response**

* * *

Gibby swings open the door right as Sam's neurons stop working. Her arm is rooted at that spot. She can feel the cockroaches biting her skin where Seth's hand is. Sam wants to let out a battle cry and kick him in his special places. But she can't move. And she doesn't know why.

"Well hello there!" Gibby announces his presence with a smirk.

Sam's hatred for the chubby dork at that moment overpowers her paralysis. She painfully whips her arm away, and Seth looks at her questioningly.

"Should I leave again, my lovebirds?" Gibby coos.

Sam explodes. "GIBBY, SHUT UP!"

Both Seth and Gibby cringe at the noise of her scream, and Seth gets up. "I…uh…I can go."

"God, _please _do_._ Gibby, you too. Get _OUT_!" Sam yells, turning her head away from them. Why is she blushing? She could care less about what Gibby thinks and even less about this Seth kid.

"Gosh," Gibby retorts, insulted. "Who planted a coconut tree in _your_ vineyard?"

Seth follows Gibby out of the room with a confused look on his face.

Sam sighs with conflicted relief.

* * *

"The moment of truth," Carly announces, biting a fingernail. Freddie gently removes her hand from her mouth and gives her a look.

"I know! I know," Carly moans. "I want to break that habit, but…"

"Carly, it's just a roommate. She's not going to make or break your college career. And it's not like you won't be here as often as you are on campus," Freddie reminds her.

She rubs her forehead. "Yeah, yeah, I know." Biting her lip, she clicks on the link on her University of Washington account.

"And her name is…Lindsay."

Freddie shrugs. "Innocent enough."

Carly smiles. "Lindsay. Lindsay Regan. Alright. She sounds nice."

Freddie snorts. "Caltech still hasn't assigned us our roommates yet. It's getting really annoying. And _I'm_ actually going to have to be there 24/7."

Carly gives him a sympathetic look. "Nervous about going far away?"

Freddie shrugs. "Yes and no. Depends on…different things," he finishes awkwardly.

She smirks knowingly. "Sam?"

Freddie falters. "Pssh, no! What? Why would—"

He stops when he glances at Carly's annoyed expression. "Bad liar, I know, I know."

"I get it, Freddie," she says. "Especially after all that's happened."

Freddie sighs. "I've gotta go to college, though. Right? I mean, it's just what people our age…_do_."

Carly shrugs. "Sam's not going anywhere."

"Yeah, but she had a plan, right?"

She gives him a look.

"Yeah, I guess she didn't," Freddie whispers.

They're both silent for a minute or so.

"Take care of her, alright?" Freddie says quietly, blushing. "I mean, you'll be around a whole lot more than I am."

Carly looks at him incredulously. "Who do you think I am? Of course I will! She's my best friend too, you know."

"Gibbayyyyyyyy," their friend shouts as he bursts through the door. "Hey peeps!"

"Hi Gibby." Carly closes her laptop. "How's Sam?"

Gibby plops down on the couch next to her. "She's alright, I guess. She looks terrible in those casts."

"She looks fine," Freddie insists, slightly glaring at the boy.

Gibby shrugs. "Hey, you asked. I had to wait a while to see her though. When I got there, her boyfriend was in her room."

"Her _what_?" Carly and Freddie both blurt.

Gibby looks back and forth between the two of them. "Her boyfriend."

"Gibby," Carly says, nervously observing Freddie's reaction. "Sam doesn't have a boyfriend."

"Sure she does. I was just the first to find out," he announces proudly. "He was touching her arm and she was blushing and everything!"

"Wait, he was _touching_ her?" Freddie's volume rises, and Carly puts a warning hand on his arm.

"Sure."

"She didn't pull away?" Freddie's seeing red.

"Well yeah, when I came in the room." Gibby laughs, oblivious to Freddie's inner breakdown. "Talk about awk-waaard!"

"That's impossible, Gibby," Carly insists. "What'd this guy look like?"

"I dunno. Dirty blonde hair. Pretty handsome, might I add." Carly gives Gibby a look and scrunches her nose.

"Seth," Freddie hisses between his teeth.

"What?" Carly asks.

"Nothing," Freddie growls, teeth grinding. He feels as though jealousy is being pumped into his bloodstream through an IV. He gets off the couch and takes long strides to the door. "I have to go help my mom with something," he lies.

"Wait, Freddie!" Carly calls after him, moments before the door slams shut behind him.

* * *

"_I hate Freddie…I'll always be on my own!"_

Did she not hear him say it? Does she not even _care_?

"_SAMILOVEYOU!"_

Freddie sighs, burying his face in a pillow, rolling over on his stomach. His mother was going to punish him for wrinkling the sheets on his bed this early in the day, but Freddie could care less at the moment.

It seems like whatever he had in mind for him and Sam is falling apart. He's leaving for college. She's traumatized by what the Shadow Hammer did to her. And Seth is screwing with her head.

Seth.

Freddie's face reddens with hatred for the guy. _Who does he think he is? He's like, four years older than her or something! He doesn't know her at _all_. I do. He doesn't care about her. I do. He met her, what, like a week ago? I've known her for ten _years.

And she's letting Seth _touch_ her? After all of that "don't touch me" chizz?

Freddie's mad at her, Seth, and himself. He's not sure how to balance his anger across those three areas, though.

"Do I confront her?" he asks himself out loud. "Or do I win her over?"

Freddie groans, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I sound like an idiot."

* * *

"Oh my goodness! Sam!"

A perky, annoying, and familiar voice wakes Sam up the following morning.

"Huh? What?" Sam mumbles, still half asleep.

"It's me! Melanie!"

Sam's eyes pop open. "Wha—Melanie?"

Her mirror image slides gracefully into the chair and gives her a forced smile. "You look…great!" Sam can feel her twin's eyes inspecting her cuts, bruises, bandages, slings, IVs, and casts.

"H-how did you get here?" Sam asks, blinking rapidly in an effort to get the sleep out of her eyes.

"A _very_ long bus ride. This really old lady was sitting next to me and she fell asleep four and a half hours away from Seattle," Melanie giggles. "Her head was on my shoulder. It was adorable."

Leave it to Melanie to find _that_ adorable. Sam rolls her eyes. "Sounds like torture to me."

Melanie gives her a look. "Well you're not a people person. But anyway, your friend Freddie was supposed to give me a ride from the station, but he never showed and wasn't answering his phone. What a flake," she complains, but still somehow sounds happy doing it. "I called Carly though, and she came and I stayed at her place for the night."

"Where _is_ Carly?" Sam instantly blurts, desperate to not be alone with her perfect clone. She'd never admit it, but Melanie always made her feel ugly, stupid, and a failure.

"She'll be here soon. She had to help Spencer put out some fire on his sculpture." Melanie giggles again, and Sam's eardrums vibrate with distaste. "Things haven't changed much since my last visit, have they?"

"Freddie now knows you exist," Sam grumbles bitterly.

Melanie laughs loudly. "Oh yeah! That whole situation was hilarious!"

"I still can't believe you kissed him," Sam says, glaring at her.

She shrugs. "What can I say? He's adorable."

If Sam could, she'd shove Melanie out of the room and slam the door in her face.

"I'm, um, I'm really glad you're okay, Sammy," Melanie suddenly whispers seriously.

_I hate you for making me feel bad._ "Don't call me that!" Sam refuses to acknowledge what would have been a sappy moment.

"Oh, right. You hate that." Melanie stares at her shoes. "But…I am."

Sam still won't give in. "When are you going back to boarding school?"

Melanie blinks, taken aback and hurt. "Well, I'm actually done for the year…so I'm not going back."

Sam refuses to feel guilty about her disappointment.

"But I forgot to tell you; I got a full ride to NYU! Isn't that amazing?" Melanie's blue eyes are shining, and something inside of Sam shrivels up and disintegrates.

"Yeah," she grumbles.

"And I'm leaving next week to attend a pre-orientation program for the summer. I can't wait to meet all these new people!" Melanie exclaims.

Sam wants to throw up. Perfection is hideous. Especially when it looks like her but isn't her.

"Congrats," Sam bites. _I'm not jealous. Just disgusted by her enthusiasm. I'm not jealous._

_I'm not._

* * *

"Freddie, open the door," Carly pleads. "I know you're in there!"

After ten more seconds of silence and then a shuffling noise, the Bensons' front door flies open.

"Whoa," Carly blurts. He looked like a complete _mess_. "You need to tame that hair, Freddie."

Freddie barely acknowledges her presence and walks back into the apartment. Carly follows him in. "Oh come _on_. I can't believe you right now. You actually believe anything that _Gibby_ says?"

He shrugs halfheartedly. "She let him touch her."

Carly sighs loudly in exasperation. "Oh please. Gibby exaggerates. For all you know that guy touched her for all of a second before Gibby waltzed in."

"A second is still longer than what she gave me!" Freddie shouts.

"Okay," Carly says nervously. "Obviously giving you a night to cool down wasn't long enough. But you're coming with me to see her. Right now."

"_Seth_ will probably be there," Freddie growls.

"Who?"

"Some idiot who works at the hospital and keeps making moves on Sam."

"_That's_ who you think her boyfriend is?" Carly asks in disbelief. "How old is this guy? Like _forty_?"

"More like twenty-two or something."

Her eyebrows fly up. "Huh."

"He bugs the hell out of me."

Carly's arms cross. "Not to be rude, but you're being lame right now. Just come with me. Sam needs someone to help her with Melanie. Nice job picking her up at the bus station, by the way."

Freddie doesn't even care that he forgot. "She survived."

"Get a _grip_, Freddie! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and angry at some guy for doing _nothing_ but getting Gibby's attention! I'm sick of it! And I'm sure Sam wouldn't like it either."

He's silent.

"Look," Carly continues. "Just come with me, okay? I have a whole bunch of Sam's CDs to bring that I need help carrying."

* * *

"You dropped one."

Freddie rolls his eyes. "I know, Carls. I heard it hit the ground." He carefully bends over and picks up a CD off the hospital floor, replacing it at the top of his stack.

They walk down the hallway and arrive at Sam's door. Carly gives Freddie a nervous glance and slowly opens it.

Two blondes are in there. The glare of one of them does not elicit a pleasant response from Freddie.

* * *

**If you wouldn't mind telling people you know about my work/stories, that'd be fantastic. I'm still trying to figure out if I want to pursue an actual career in writing, so the more reviews I get, the more confident I'll be about a decision.**

**Last time's reviewers…thank you. It means so much more than you could imagine. 'iShip Seddie', 'SeddieFan99', 'Lauren', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'jimbo74', 'akarandomfang', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'selfless seDdie', 'twnklingsediestr', 'Kezziexx', 'irishfan62', 'KrisLovesSeddie', 'unquestionable-honour', 'green aura', 'Kyle McShade', 'this little heart of mine', and 'hejk12345'.**

'**Lauren' – haha hopefully my story helps you get through the school week! Except most people are probably already done. Thanks so much!**

'**selfless seDdie' – no problem! Thanks for all the support and compliments!**

'**twnklingsediestr' – thank you! I like my secrets :)**


	6. Chapter Five: Results

**Sorry for the suckiness of last chapter. I've had a couple rough weeks. I feel bad that I let it affect my work; hopefully it didn't this time.**

**Chapter Five: Results**

* * *

"Carly…" Sam immediately growls through her teeth. She looks like she's about to implode from an overwhelming dose of Melanie-perfection.

The brunette's eyes widen. She quickly sets her stack of CDs on the table and grabs Melanie's arm. "Uh, hey Mel! There's something really cool I have to show you! It's…uh…in the ground floor waiting room!" Melanie's neatly curled ponytail whips around as she's rushed out of the room.

Sam closes her eyes, glad that her stupid sister is _finally_ out of her hair. There's only so much Melanie she can take at one time.

A loud clank of CDs hitting the bedside table reminds her that Freddie's still in the room.

"Oh. It's you," Sam mumbles, trying to sound nonchalant as she opens her eyes.

Freddie sets his jaw. "Yeah. Just me." His arms cross over his chest.

Sam's eyebrows rise. "Uh…what's up with you?"

"Nothing."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Be like that. I thought we were friends again—or whatever—but I guess not."

Freddie lets out a loud breath. "Sure. Fine. We're friends." He cracks a knuckle on his right hand. "I'm just an untouchable."

Sam's taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"So how's Seth doing?" Freddie's words bite.

"Uh, fine…"

She _knows_ how he feels about her. Freddie's sure of that. She has to be. He _said_ it, for crying out loud! And now she's going to pretend that it doesn't matter. Sam could at least have the decency to tell him that she doesn't feel the same way instead of just avoiding the whole thing and leaving him hanging. And since Freddie saw the Shadow Hammer's photo of Sam looking at him the way he looks at her, he'd just assumed. Sam _has_ to feel the same way. She just does.

"How long have you two known each other?" Freddie asks, leaning against the wall.

"Like a week…" What is he going on about _now_?

"Interesting. You sure do move fast."

Sam's mouth drops open. "_What_?"

"No, it's okay. I'm interested." Freddie gives her a bitter smirk. "Have you too kissed yet?"

"What the _hell_, Freddie!"

He mocks shock. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is that too personal? I guess only you and Carly talk about that stuff. You _have_ been friends with her longer, I guess. A _month_ longer. A lot can happen in a month. I mean, look what's happened with you and Seth in only a week!"

Sam gives him one of her searing death glares. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"I should have known that I'd be your only sense of good judgment," he snaps.

Sam lets out a breath of disbelief. "Since when do you _own_ me?"

Freddie uncrosses his arms and takes two strides toward the bed. "I don't think I do. I mean, he practically branded you with his handprint, didn't he?"

"Alright, can you stop talking in metaphors now and tell me what on _earth_ you're talking about?"

"You obviously don't know the definition of a metaphor," Freddie scoffs. Her face is full of confusion, anger, and exhaustion. "Is Seth your healer? Is his touch warm and comforting and curing all your problems?"

Sam's eyes suddenly feel very heavy, and her chest tenses up. She shakes her head slowly. "I don't know how you got to be such a jerk, but I'll put up with your sorry butt for one more minute." Freddie's eyes flash as she continues. "Sure, that Seth kid did touch my arm, but so did you."

"Hand," he interrupts.

"What?"

"I touched your hand."

Sam gives him a sarcastic look. "It matters! But I pulled away from it, just like I did from you."

"That's not what Gibby saw," Freddie insists.

"Gibby?" Sam shouts. "Do you even _know_ Gibby? He's an idiot! And so are you for taking anything he says seriously!"

He loves that blonde psycho so much but wants her to hurt the way he's hurting. If she can't understand what he's feeling, then she'll just have to feel it herself.

"At least he tells me things!"

"And I _don't_? God, Freddie! Is me getting raped not _significant_ enough for you? Or how about how my dad left my mom and me for drugs? Or maybe about my mom's financial problems? Oh, hold on a second; I already _told_ you all of that!"

Freddie starts feeling the slightest bit of guilt. "Sam—"

"You know, Seth has been more of a friend to me in the past week than you've _ever_ been!" she yells.

The guilt disappears. "Are you kidding?" he yells right back. "You've literally beaten me into the floor for ten years and I _still_ put up with you! I even gave up that sea trip to get Missy to leave you alone! I gave you a place to stay when you had _nowhere_ else to go! And a week ago I lost my _mind_ trying to find you!"

"Oh, and you did _such_ a great job!" Sam growls. "Poor Freddie. His little feet are sore from pacing his room while I'm getting bones broken, ligaments torn, skin burned and cut up, hair yanked out of my skull, drowned in a freaking _bucket_, electrocuted, and RAPED!I'm sorry, I never even _realized _the pain that you were going through! I'll try to be more considerate in the future!" Her volume rises a significant amount during her rant until she's practically screaming.

"Oh, and that's _my _fault?" Freddie retorts.

"Gee, I don't know!" Sam pretends to think about it. "You know, I remember you taking a stupid sunglasses video of the guy and turning it over to the police!"

Freddie closes the distance between him and the head of the bed. "So now I'm a bad person for doing the right thing?" he shouts.

"LOOK AT ME!" Sam shrieks, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her face. "DOES ALL THIS RESEMBLE SOMETHING _RIGHT_?"

"How dare you blame this on me!" Freddie shouts. "Did I tell him to abduct you? Did I tell him to hurt you? Did I tell him to _rape_ you?"

"Oh yeah, like switching your apartment number was really going to fix everything? God, your intelligence is grossly overrated," Sam hisses and sarcastically adds, "Caltech is gonna loooooove you!"

"SHUT UP, SAM!" he booms.

"Go fall off a cliff, Benson!"

Silence falls like a heavy cloud of smog over the room. It sounds so out of place after the countless minutes of yelling and screaming that Freddie feels a little panicky. He looks at Sam with disgust and shakes his head.

"You're on your own," he snarls. "And whatever happens with your tests next week, don't even _think_ about coming crying to me."

Sam's speechless as Freddie spins around on his heel and walks to the door. He opens it, turns back to look at her, and deals her the final blow.

"Have a nice life."

He leaves and slams the door behind him. Sam wants to scream after him, to tell him how much she hates him and how much she wishes he'd just leave Seattle and die. How much of a pathetic loser he is. How evil and heartless and cruel and inhuman and—

Sam draws in a sharp breath when her chest feels like it's splitting apart. It feels heavy and tight and she feels the tears spring to her eyes. _I've lost him,_ her brain tells her. _I've lost him._

She forces back a thought in response.

_Good riddance._

* * *

"GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Freddie's screaming his sanity out in the hospital's parking garage. He's pounding the palms of his hands into the rough walls, trying to get rid of all the fury and tension and emotion. All he manages to get out is a bunch of blood from the various places that his skin is punctured by the wall's imperfections.

How can someone love and hate another so _much_ at the same time?

* * *

"Don't be nervous, sweetie. We won't even get the results until tomorrow," Mary tries to reassure her.

"But…but…" Sam tries to stall. "Are you sure it's been two weeks already? I mean, I think we're still a few days away!"

"This is scary. I get that, hun," the nurse says. "That's completely normal. But once we get these results back, the doctors can get a better idea on your future treatment."

"What, like ineffective anti-HIV drugs or abortion?" Sam snaps bitterly.

Mary sighs. "Come on now, sweetie. Let's get you to the lab."

* * *

When the personal space violations and unbearable procedures are finally over, Sam feels exposed and vulnerable and empty. And she doesn't think that Carly or Spencer can fill all of those spaces.

But that's too bad.

* * *

Carly looks at her best friend shaking under the bed sheets. "It's gonna be okay, Sam. I know you don't have HIV. It's not possible."

"It is," Sam whispers. Carly's shocked by how delicate Sam sounds. She wants to take the blonde's hand and give her a reassuring squeeze, but she can't. And that kills her.

"Whatever happens, you know I'm always here," Carly tries with a smile. "I'm here for you."

Sam hardly responds. It looks like all of the blood has drained from her head, and her voice is raspy and faltering. "Thanks."

"And I'll support any decision that you make about treatment or whatever. Even though that won't be necessary," Carly quickly adds.

Sam just sighs.

Carly gulps, grateful for the fact that Sam can't physically assault her at the moment. "And I don't know what happened between you and Freddie last week, but…" Sam glares at her, and Carly hesitates before saying, "I'm always here."

"You're all I need," Sam said firmly.

Carly knows that it's a lie, but it's hopeless at this point. When she asked Freddie what was going on, he refused to even acknowledge that Sam existed.

"_I'm going to visit Sam again. Wanna come?"_

"_Come where?"_

_Carly sighs impatiently. "To the hospital. I'm visiting Sam. You coming or what?"_

"_I don't know a Sam."_

_Carly throws her arms in the air. "Okay, what is going on with you two? What happened _now_?"_

_He shrugs oh-so-nonchalantly. "Sorry, I just don't feel like visiting some girl I don't know."_

"'_Some girl'?" Carly repeats in disbelief. "You mean your best friend Sam Puckett for the past ten _years_? The girl that you're in _love_ with?"_

_Freddie's expression hardens. "I don't know Sam Puckett. Give it a rest, Carls."_

"_Why does everything have to be drama between you two? Do I have to be the mediator every single time?"_

"_No," Freddie replies simply. "You don't have to do anything." He then looks at her with dangerously dark eyes. "So don't."_

_That look scares her more than he'll ever know. "Is this about _Seth_? They are NOT going out!"_

"_Carly, could you stop? I'm done with this conversation."_

"_But—"_

"_Done," he says in that low voice and with those eyes. Carly immediately leaves the room, horrified by the fact that she's now scared of one of her best friends._

"Ms. Puckett?" A random doctor enters the room and sees the brunette next to the blonde. "And…?"

"Carly Shay. She wants me here."

The doctor looks at Sam for confirmation, as if she wouldn't notice if Carly was lying right in front of her. "Yeah, she's cool," Sam manages.

"I have your test results."

* * *

**Thank you. I really mean it; please keep reviewing. 'iShip Seddie', 'SeddieFan99', 'twnklingsediestr', 'hejk12345', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'akarandomfang', 'its-ackim95', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'irishfan62', 'Seddie is the new purple', 'green aura', 'Kezziexx', 'jimbo74', 'Lauren', 'Megan', 'unquestionable-honour', 'seddie perfection', 'Winter', and 'Kyle McShade'.**

'**twnklingsediestr' – and what problem is that? :) thank you.**

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'**Megan' – thanks so much.**

'**Winter' – me too :) I do every Saturday.**


	7. Chapter Six: Wake Up

**Sup. A longer chapter for you all today.**

**Chapter Six: Wake Up**

* * *

"Let's see…" the doctor continues, shuffling through his papers. Carly starts biting her nails while Sam just lays there in silent dread. "Ah, well the HIV test is on the top of my pile, so let's start with that. I have—"

"How long am I going to be here?" Sam suddenly interrupts.

"Pardon?"

"In the hospital," Sam says slowly, obviously stalling. "It's already been a couple weeks. I only broke some bones, right?"

The doctor silently agrees to play Sam's game. "Well, some of your limbs were worse; for example that left elbow of yours." Sam grimaces. "The numerous places of your injuries is also a factor. Along with some skin damage…" the doctor continues babbling his list while Carly looks at her questioningly. _Skin damage? _She mouths at Sam. The blonde just shakes her head.

"Until you have a significant and consistent improvement in those areas, then I'm afraid we're going to have to keep you here," he finishes.

"But I can't pay for all of this, you money-sucker!" Sam suddenly shouts, turning red.

"Insurance, Sam," Carly tries to reassure her. "And I'm sure if there's a difference, Spencer can take care of it."

"But I don't want him to have to do that!" Sam insists.

"Trust me, he'll feel better knowing that he can do something to help. You'll be doing _him_ a favor."

The doctor clears his throat.

"Can I have more pain meds?" Sam tries, doing everything possible to avoid the real reason that the man is here.

"We administered some to you an hour ago. Sam, I really need to give you these results. I have other patients to attend to."

Sam glares at him, wishing that his face would melt off. "Jerk," she mutters, but not very softly.

The doctor takes a deep breath. "Anyway. The HIV and other STD test results."

"Wait, what?" Sam blurts. "I could have something other than HIV?"

The doctor gives her a tight smile. "Just being thorough." He slides some charts and complicated-looking graphs in front of Sam and Carly. "Good news: you tested negative for any and all Sexually Transmitted Diseases."

Carly practically bursts into tears out of relief, but Sam just stares at the doctor. "Negative…" she says slowly. "Like…I don't have any?"

He nods.

"Are you sure?"

"Would you rather hear something different?" the doctor asks her.

And then it finally hits her like a bus.

"Oh my God…" Sam breathes. She breaks into a smile. "Oh my _God_!"

Carly leaps out of her chair and jumps around, whooping and waving her hands in the air. "What did I tell you, Sam? I _told_ you!" Sam laughs.

"Would you mind sitting down, ma'am?" the doctor impatiently asks, ending the celebration.

The brunette flops into her chair, out of breath and delirious with happiness. "Are we not allowed to dance in hospitals?" she asks with a grin.

The man fishes through his stack of papers again and pulls out a manila folder. "More test results." He glances through the folder's contents and freezes.

Both Sam and Carly see and stop smiling. "What?" Sam croaks nervously.

The doctor shoves the folder in front of Sam and decides to just blurt it out.

"Your pregnancy test was positive."

Silence.

"What?" Carly squeaks.

Sam laughs, protected by the bittersweet shield of bubble brain. "No I'm not. I feel fine. I haven't gotten morning sickness or weird cravings or whatever pregnant ladies get."

The man swallows. "It takes a few months for all of that to start. I'm sorry. We can take another test to verify the—"

"Please do," Sam interrupts. "This is total chizz."

"Huh?"

Carly, as pale as Sam's bed sheets, whispers, "It's a German sausage."

"I thought it was the cheese powder for making mac and cheese," Sam says. Carly stays quiet.

The doctor gathers his papers and heads for the door. "I'll just have a nurse come by and take another…sample…for another test." He leaves.

Sam glances at Carly, who is staring into space looking lost and ashy. "Carls?"

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Tears are coming to the dark-haired girl's eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Sam's heart starts to pound harder. "It was a mistake. They're gonna do it again."

"Sam…" Carly tries.

"It's a mistake, Carly," Sam insists, firmer this time. "I'm not…I'm not." For some reason she can't say the p-word.

"Sam—"

Something inside of the blonde snaps. "No! Stop it! I'm _not_!" Her voice cracks, which makes everything that much worse. Sam's throat closes up and her stomach feels fuzzy.

The door opens, and a nurse holding a small container enters the room. "I need to take a sample from Ms. Puckett, so visitors need to leave the room for a few minutes."

* * *

"It's so embarrassing, Carls," Sam complains weakly, trying to get both of their minds off of what's really happening. "She lifts up the sheet and my hospital gown thing, and then I have to pee or…the other thing…into something she's holding under me." Sam's cheeks flush. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"It's okay," Carly mumbles, only partially listening to her friend.

"Two weeks of doing my business like this is a real—"

The door opens.

The doctor's grim expression makes Carly burst into tears and moan, "Oh my God…no…oh my God…"

"Negative, right?" Sam tries, chest tightening.

"Positive."

Carly sobs even harder, but Sam just sits there, very still.

"I'll leave you alone for a moment." And with that, the man leaves.

Sam feels a clot in her gut that's expanding with every breath she takes. She feels heavy and hot and dizzy. It's in her. _He's_ in her.

MINE

"_You are mine. You both are…not Freddie, silly. Oh Samantha. Samantha, Samantha, Samantha. You are mine. Always will be."_

_You both are_…

"I want to be alone," Sam declares mechanically.

"Um…okay," Carly gets out in between sobs. With a final glance at the pale, narrow, broken girl in the hospital bed, she clicks the door closed behind her.

* * *

Sobbing from the hallway interrupts an hour of channel surfing. Freddie hits the remote and listens. Carly?

He jumps for the door and sees the brunette struggling to open her apartment door with her key. "Carly? What's going on?"

Carly doesn't even bother to wipe her tears or snot away. Her head whips around, and she glares at him. "Like you would even care."

Freddie blinks and takes a step back, stung. "What? Carly, of course I do! Why are you crying?"

She takes deep breaths and clears her throat. "Her tests."

"What?" Freddie doesn't get it at first.

"She's…she's pregnant," Carly croaks and burst into another round of tears.

Something inside of him dies and rots in a matter of milliseconds. Her beautiful blonde hair and ocean blue eyes flash before him, and Freddie grabs the wall for support.

"_What?_" But he heard her. He heard her loud and clear.

Carly's key finally jams into the lock and turns. "Look, I can't deal with this right now." She wipes some tears off of her face and starts closing the door behind her. "Just…just have a heart, Freddie."

The noise of the slamming door slaps Freddie across the face, and he tumbles to the ground, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are stinging and his mouth is dry. Somehow this outcome didn't seem as horrible until it suddenly became a reality.

"_DOES ALL THIS RESEMBLE SOMETHING _RIGHT?"

Freddie buries his face in his hands.

"_How dare you blame this on me!"_

He lets out an animal-like moan.

"_SHUT UP, SAM!"_

He removes his hands from his dry face and uses them to hit the wall repeatedly.

"_You're on your own. And whatever happens with your tests next week, don't even _think _about coming crying to me."_

And with that memory echoing in his skull, Freddie finally breaks down sobbing.

* * *

Sam sits there staring at nothing for the forty-seventh minute in a row. She remembers what it looked like in the mirror, even in that dim lighting. Red, blistering, and puffy. Still sizzling from the scorching metal rod. Irritated skin bordering that four-letter word.

Sam wouldn't let herself become his, even when he repeated it to her millions of times. But this is now out of her control. He's still inside of her. And it's permanent this time. A permanent reminder of what happened to her and what he did and how powerless she was. She would be the one nurturing his everlasting presence. Protecting it from harm until it was fully developed and invasive and screaming and _alive_. Another _him_. That child is _his_.

MINE

And then she explodes.

* * *

_What am I going to say? _Freddie frantically thinks as he shuffles down one of the hospital's many hallways. _Where do I even start?_

He can see her door now. It's closed. Maybe he should peek in the window first before—

The loudspeaker system screeches to life above him. "Code Nine in Room 403. Immediate attention needed. Repeat, Code Nine in Room 403."

Freddie stops in his tracks, only twenty feet down the hall from her room. _Wait, isn't that Sam's room?_

Then three nurses come out of nowhere and rush into the room. Freddie takes off sprinting. As soon as the door opens, he can hear her screaming.

"NO! GET IT OUT! NO!"

Freddie stumbles through the doorway, eyes wild and hair even wilder.

Sam's ignoring her broken arms, having torn off the bed sheet and ripped her hospital gown down the middle. Like a feral animal, she's clawing at her stomach where some awful-looking burns are. The redness of the burn irritation blends with the dark blood that she's drawing from her skin.

The nurses are trying to stop her, but they've underestimated Sam's staggering strength, even with broken arms.

"STOP IT! I WANT IT _OUT_! LET GO OF ME!" And in the middle of all that shrieking and clawing, she's bawling her eyes out.

Another nurse rushes into the room, nearly knocking Freddie over. The woman running in behind her tells Freddie something about him not being allowed in there. He's not paying attention; all he can hear are Sam's screams. All he can see is that blood and those burns…

When the nurses finally pry Sam's hands away from her stomach, Freddie _really_ sees the burns.

And what they spell.

The fifth nurse shoves Freddie out of the door, but in her hurry, neglects to close the door. He collapses onto the hard floor, unable to react when the woman whips out a large needle with a pale liquid and jams it into one of Sam's arms. Her violent thrashing gradually transforms into sluggish movements and then nothing when she falls asleep.

"No, please…you don't understand…" Sam slurs, trying so hard not to give in to the sedative. "I need it out…I can't have it in…abortion…stop…I hurt so bad…"

And then silence from Sam, Freddie, and all five nurses.

* * *

Freddie has to spend an entire torturous hour in the waiting room before he's allowed to see Sam. They have her on sedatives and pain medication, so she's completely knocked out. She has on a new gown and the bed sheets are back in their place. Almost like nothing even happened, and Sam is just taking a nap.

He doesn't know if Sam still has a phobia of touch, but at this point, he doesn't care anymore. Freddie rushes to her side, kneels on the floor, and caresses her face. He kisses her forehead when a tear of his lands on it.

"God, I'm so sorry, Sam," he whispers. "How could I do that to you?"

Her soft, steady breathing is the only response he gets. Freddie buries his face in her neck, trying to ignore the rough bandage covering another knife wound. "I love you," he sobs. "God Sam, I love you so much."

Freddie threads his fingers in her tangled hair. "Please don't hate me. _Please_."

He wants to rip the casts and slings and bandages off and heal her himself, somehow fixing everything by touching her. He wants to wipe out that word engraved on her delicate skin. He wants to snap his fingers and have her pregnancy terminated. He wants to kiss her and hold her and love her.

But for now, all Freddie can do is breathe in her scent as he waits for her to wake up.

* * *

**I'll have a poll on my profile pretty soon, like maybe in a couple chapters. Just a heads up.**

**Thanks 'Seddie is the new purple', 'SeddieFan99', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'Kyle McShade', 'Kezziexx', 'lauren', 'iShip Seddie', 'rimdsloveseddie' (x3), 'twnklingsediestr', 'irishfan62', 'seddie perfection', 'this little heart of mine', 'Megan', 'jimbo74', akarandomfang', 'I3Anthony', 'green aura', 'selfless seddie', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'Irene113', 'TheAngeloflego', and 'hejk12345'.**

'**lauren' – that **_**is**_** what I tend to do, ha. Remember to breathe as you read!**

'**twnklingsediestr' – oh no worries I assume everyone does (forget what they had reviewed ;]) it means a lot that you keep reviewing!**

'**Megan' – you bet! Thanks for continuing to read!**

'**I3Anthony' – haha I doubt it but thanks so much it means a lot! Every Saturday.**

'**selfless seddie' – I can relate with the hectic life, heh. Gibby does have a big mouth. Thank youuu!**

'**Irene113' – thanks so much! I'm glad :)**


	8. Chapter Seven: What to Say

**Hi. Totally forgot to write this until last night. It's kinda bad. Sigh.**

**Chapter Seven: What to Say**

* * *

When Sam comes too, her eyelashes are glued together. Something surrounds her left hand and something heavier is resting on the corresponding shoulder. Although sawdust is overflowing from her mouth, it works before her eyes do.

"Mmph," Sam groans. "Get…off…"

Freddie's eyes shoot open, and he whips his forehead off of her shoulder while releasing her hand. "I, uh, sorry…Sam?"

Sam tries to produce tears to soak through the superglue, but eventually it just takes a lot of time and faked patience to open her eyes. His voice hadn't registered in her half-conscious brain, but now that his face is a few feet away from her, it does.

"_You_?" Sam is fully awake.

Freddie scratches the back of his neck. "Uh…yeah. Hi."

They're both silent for a few seconds and Sam squints at him. "Hi…?"

"Look," Freddie starts. "What I said was totally…wrong."

"Nice vocabulary," Sam grumbles.

He takes a breath. "Stupid, idiotic, hypocritical, terrible, uh…"

"You forgot bad," Sam bites sarcastically.

"Look, I _am_ sorry," Freddie insists.

Sam studies him. "So you found out, huh."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Freddie tries. She just looks at him.

"Yeah," he says sheepishly, looking down at his lap. "Yeah I did."

"My test results don't matter to you, remember?"

Freddie runs his right hand down his face. "They do. I was wrong and stupid and…well, you know the rest."

"Do I?"

Freddie sighs. "No. You're _not_ on your own."

"Oh, really?" Sam snaps. "A couple days ago I remember you saying that—"

"I know," he interrupts. "I was…wrong."

"You know, I can tell that you put a lot of thought into this little apology of yours."

"Sam, please," Freddie pleads. "Let me help you."

"_Help_ me?" she asks incredulously. "I'm already pregnant! I'm already in the hospital for God knows how much longer! What could you _possibly_ help with?"

He wants to say something, but nothing comes to mind except, "Uh…emotional distress?"

She suddenly goes pale. "Did…did you see me, um…"

Freddie bites his bottom lip and says, "Yeah."

"Oh."

"Look, I saw what was on your stomach," he blurts, and her eyes go wide.

"What?"

"The word. It's…it's awful what was done to you. I'm really sorry."

She doesn't say anything.

"I'll always be here for you."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not sure if I should believe anything that comes out of your mouth. Second, you just lied. Have fun in California in two months, Fredbag."

"Oh," he gets out. "Right."

"Oh, right," Sam sarcastically mocks. "I totally forgot about _that_! My education is the furthest thing from my mind even though I'm an uber-freak tech nerd!"

"Sam—"

"Just go, okay? And turn on that CD player on your way out," she orders.

Freddie doesn't know what else to do but comply.

* * *

The next morning, Sam's barely awake for five minutes before some doctor barges in her room. "Morning Samantha!"

"Sam…" she warns.

"Right. Anyway, how are you today?" he sits in the chair near the bed and fiddles with his clipboard.

"Just dandy," Sam mutters.

"The reason I'm here is to talk to you about your options."

"Options?"

"Your future decisions about your test results."

"Abortion," Sam immediately blurts. "Do it _now_."

"Well there are some things we need to consider—"

"No. Abortion _now_."

"First there's the possibility of putting the baby up for adoption—"

"Abortion."

"Or having and keeping the baby—"

"Abortion."

"Sam, please let me finish." The man is clearly irritated.

"Whatever, crabby," Sam mumbles oh-so-softly.

He clears his throat. "Although we put you under anesthetics during the procedure, you may experience a lot of cramping and pain afterward for weeks. And I can give you a packet about how the procedure works. It's not a very pleasant read."

"I want it out," Sam insists.

"Just take a while to think about it, okay?"

"Are you not _hearing_ me?" she asks incredulously. "ABORTION!"

"Sorry, Ms. Puckett. It's procedure to give our patients a decent amount of time to decide unless there's a limited time between the cutoff."

"Cutoff?"

"The cutoff for an abortion to be legal. Three months since conception. So you have plenty of time. The minimum we require in your situation is two days."

"I take it that you're pro-life?" Sam growls.

"Personally…I haven't really got an opinion on it. The hospital itself is, but we will have our pro-choice partner doctors perform the procedure in case that's what you decide."

"It is."

"Keep an open mind, Saman—Sam."

"How long am I gonna be here with you idiots?" Sam sighs.

He gives her a tight smile. "As long as you are in a wheelchair and have someone to help you shower and use the restroom when you leave, maybe another week or so."

"What's going to happen in a week? You're ridiculous if you think you're gonna rip me off a few _more_ thousand dollars."

"A…safety precaution."

"Oh shut it. No one lies to me and gets away with it. I want a decent reason or I'm going home as soon as I get a visitor to take me."

"Your injuries are extensive," the doctor starts.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard all that before."

"Alright, okay, how about three more days? Maybe by then you'll have your decision made about the baby."

"I already have a decision!" Sam shouts.

"Please. Think about it."

* * *

Not ten minutes later, Sam hears the click of the door handle turning. She does _not_ want to deal with that moronic doctor again, so she shuts her eyes and pretends to be asleep.

Freddie breathes in slowly but loudly, looking at her peacefully laying there. God, she's beautiful. He's not sure how she turned out that way. He's seen her nightmare of a mother. He's imagined the nightmare that is her father.

He goes and sits in the same chair. Sam unconsciously holds her breath, sensing it's not the doctor. She does her best not to flinch when she feels a hand on her wrist.

"Please forgive me," Freddie whispers. "I need you to."

She doesn't even move, not like he's expecting her to or anything. Freddie doesn't want her to wake up so that he can spend whatever peaceful moments he can with her.

When she feels her hair move, Sam's eye twitches but she stays in character.

Freddie's fingers thread through the blonde strands and come to a stop where her hairline meets her upper cheek. Man, if Sam were awake right now, she'd be slapping him until _he_ was unconscious.

Oh well.

He brushes her cheek, leans over, and kisses her forehead.

When Freddie pulls away, Sam feels like that spot is burning a hole in her skull. She cannot be_lieve_ he just did that. And she cannot believe that she actually _liked_ it.

"I care about you too much to let you go through this alone," Freddie tells her. "If you go through with the pregnancy, I'll be there to feed you bacon and whipped cream for your cravings or to take the wrath of your mood swings. If not, I'll be there with the Advil after the procedure."

_Will it really hurt that bad?_

Yes, she knows that many infertile couples would murder her with an ax if they knew she wanted to abort. She also knew that there were many homeless kids waiting for them.

Is she pro-life or pro-choice?

Hell, she doesn't know. In this case, definitely pro-choice. Pro-abortion. She wants all traces of the Shadow Hammer gone for good.

"I can't believe he burned you like that," Freddie continues. "It _is_ my fault."

Sam can't take any more of this. She stirs, pretending to wake up.

Freddie immediately backs up and puts his hands on his lap. "Ahh…hi."

"Have you been here long?"

"No…"

Sam sighs, still trying to ignore the hotness of her forehead. "Look, what you said before—"

"Stupid and…okay, I'm not going through the list again."

"Yeah don't," Sam agrees.

"What are you planning to do…you know, about the uh…"

"Fetus?" Sam announces blatantly.

Freddie lets out an uneasy laugh. "Yeah, I guess."

"Abortion."

"Okay," he says slowly. "When's the procedure?"

"At this rate, never," Sam grumbles.

"Huh?"

"The doc's making me wait two whole days to make a decision."

Freddie shrugs. "Well…that's smart."

She looks at the brunette in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? I want this thing _out! _Now!"

"Well…"

She gets it. "You're pro-life, aren't you."

"Well, yeah…but—"

"Whatever."

Freddie frowns. "Sam, don't shut me out like that. I'm here to support whatever you decide."

"Yeah, no pressure," Sam grumbles.

He sighs. "I know that I've said some awful things. Hopefully you can forgive me, because I'm going to be with you no matter what you say."

Sam's face flushes. "Can…can you touch me?" _Oh God, I sounded just like a little girl! _"Uh, I mean…I want to see if I can handle it. You know. You're the guinea pig."

Freddie's heart leaps, but he tries not to show it. "Sure. Just tell me when."

Her forehead still burns. "Uh…now?"

Freddie starts going for her hand, but flinches at the last second, settling for her forearm.

His hand feels very warm and heavy. Sam's eyes start to burn as emotion suddenly overwhelms her. Everything that happened to her comes flooding back, and the fact that now she has to deal with the consequences is very…real.

"Sam?" He sees her eyes beginning to shine. "Are you okay?"

And then, to her horror, it all comes pouring out in the worst way possible.

Tears.

And it's not one of those soft, delicate cries where you can control how decent you look. It's pure bawling, snot and salty tears everywhere with moans and screams and everything in between.

Freddie's obviously taken aback and whips back his hand.

"Oh cheese. Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

He's cut off by a wail and, "No, not…that."

"Then what?" Freddie waits two minutes for her to get out her next sentence.

"Just…everything. Everything that happened."

"It's not fair. This should _not_ have happened to you," Freddie blurts out, trying whatever comes to mind.

She's still crying though, and he momentarily forgets how sensitive she is to touch. Freddie gives her an awkward hug, an arm lightly draped over her stomach where he's certain the burns aren't and his hand and head on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," he says for what seems the millionth time.

She wants him to stop, but she needs him there, warming her bruised and broken skin. His breath is hot and humid against her neck, and she shivers despite the warmth.

"Are you cold?" he asks, backing away.

She shakes her head, embarrassed. Sam knows that she has…teenage girly feelings for him, but it's complicated. What with the abduction, torture, rape, huge fight, and the history…

Oh the history.

Fighting and getting on each other's nerves for however many years—she's lost count—and yet now they're here. It isn't much different; they still make each other miserable sometimes, but…

That's just it. _Sometimes._

He's not the skinny, wimpy nerd he was in second grade. He got…buff. And while it may seem shallow, Sam grew to like that.

A lot.

But it isn't just that. It's _him_. How he still puts up with her after all this time. How much he still _cares_. How...everything.

Freddie's face is maybe a foot from hers, and all he wants to do is close that distance. But he doesn't think that a recently raped and tortured girl would be looking for a relationship. Especially if that someone is Sam. And even more so if that other someone is Freddie.

And yet there they are, just sitting there staring at each other, having forgotten what they were just talking about and not knowing what to say.

* * *

**Thank you for reviewing 'Kezziexx', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'unquestionable-honour', 'SeddieFan99', 'akg.517', 'PinaySeddier', 'lauren', 'Kyle McShade', 'iShip Seddie', 'irishfan62', 'this little heart of mine', 'seddie perfection', 'akarandomfang', 'Seddie is the new purple', 'TheAngeloflego', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'Megan', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'Winter', 'jimbo74', 'green aura', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'hejk12345', and 'selfless seddie'.**

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	9. Chapter Eight: Cave

**For newcomers/those who don't notice things (like me)…I update this story every Saturday morning…er, depending on where you live. I'm in the US. **

**Chapter Eight: Cave**

* * *

Oh God. The urge.

Freddie realizes that if he screws this up now, she'll never look at him the same way.

He scrambles out of the chair and blurts, "I forgot…I have to…uh—let my mother give me…acupuncture."

Sam stares at him in shock. _What the hell?_

"So…yeah," Freddie stutters, moving clumsily to the door and grasping for the handle. "See you…uh…" The door closes behind him before he can get out anything else.

He leans against the door, freaked.

_Smooth._

* * *

Three days go by, and Sam doesn't see Freddie at all. Carly, Spencer, Gibby, that Seth kid, and even Melanie see her, but not him. She feels rejected, and she hates herself for that. Sam hates the drama, the cliché emotions, the annoying circumstances. It's all so…stupid.

She's told the doctor her decision…abortion. Shocker. The two days made no difference whatsoever. Sam has to make an appointment at the clinic in downtown Seattle when she gets home.

Melanie's gone already because of her summer program, and Sam's mom is out of jail but MIA. It's like she doesn't even care that her daughter is…not really her daughter anymore.

So Carly and Spencer are taking her back home to Frothy. They tried to convince her to stay at their place, but she's been there more than at her own house. Sam doesn't want to admit that she needs help. But she does. And that's why Carly is going to stay with her.

What a twisted slumber party.

"Come on, let's just make this stupid appointment and get it over with."

Carly sighs. "Now?"

Sam stares at her. "I should've known you were pro-life too. No wonder Freddie loves you."

"Huh?" the brunette manages.

"You know. The one time I actually listened in psych class. Similarity breeds liking."

Carly has a flash of guilt. She's _not_ the girl for Freddie. Sam is.

"What ever happened to opposites attract?" Carly tries.

"A myth," Sam responds quickly, then adds, "Dang it! I hate learning!"

"Why?" Carly replies slyly. "Because you and Freddie are opposites?"

Sam does a double take. "_What_?"

Carly starts to doubt if bringing this up is a good idea. "I…I kinda know that you like Freddie."

"_Me? _Me and the _nub?_ You've got to be high on bibble or something!"

"Sam…"

"You're seriously accusing me of this _now_?"

"Sam—"

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?"

"SAM!"

"WHAT?"

Carly takes a loud breath. "Sorry, okay? Please don't freak out on me."

"Whatever," Sam grumbles.

Carly rotates the toe of her shoe around on the floor. "So…do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Sam turns red. "No. Man, this is so embarrassing!"

Her friend tilts her head. "We're practically sisters, Sam. And you have almost full mobility with your left arm, so I don't have to do the…icky stuff." She eyes the sling around Sam's right shoulder.

"Nice," Sam grumbles. "Can we make the appointment now?"

"Are you sure?"

Sam just looks at her.

Carly has no doubt that Sam could somehow get to her and twist her arm to make her do it, so she sighs. "Okay. What's the number?"

She tells her.

Carly waits for a moment. "Hello? Yeah, my friend was just released from the hospital and her doctor told us to call you for…an abortion appointment."

Sam listens to Carly give all of the specifics. All the while, she can't stop obsessing over their previous conversation.

_Opposites don't attract. At least not with people._

"How soon do you have openings?" she hears Carly say. "Okay…how about next week?" Sam sighs. "The week after that?"

"Dude!" Sam hisses. "I was thinking like, tomorrow!"

Carly shushes her. "Alright, Thursday in two weeks at eleven o'clock sounds good. Thanks!" She hangs up.

"What happened?" Sam shrieks.

"Sorry," her friend shrugs. "They're busy until then. I'm just glad I got _that_ slot!"

Sam grumbles unintelligibly to herself and Carly bites her lip.

"So…what do you want to do?"

* * *

Sam sent her best friend on her way after having Carly lift her onto the living room couch for some needed rest. Not half an hour later, the doorbell and knocking wake her up.

"It's open," Sam mumbles, still half-asleep.

"You're home."

Her eyes open all the way, and she turns to look at him. "Uh…yeah."

Freddie closes the front door and sits on the arm of the couch. "Did they, uh, do the procedure yet?"

"No," Sam bites. "It's in two weeks. Idiots."

"Oh." He looks down and fiddles with his hands.

Sam tries to sit up and utterly fails. "So what are you doing here?"

Freddie tries a smile. "Just visiting. Is that a crime?"

Sam struggles to get up again. "It's going to be," she grumbles.

"Huh?"

Sam's cheeks turn red, and she prays that it's not showing. "Could you…uh…get me into that chair?"

Freddie feels his face get hot. "Oh. Sure."

The urge.

What would it be like to just swoop her up and kiss her?

_Breathe, Freddie._

"Alrighty…" Freddie gently hooks his arm under her knees, wincing when her cast scrapes against his skin. He loops his other arm under her back. He takes a breath. "Ready?"

Sam feels his bicep pressed into her back and gulps. "Okay."

The bicep flexes as her weight rests entirely against him, and Sam feels a lump block her throat. The topic Carly brought up earlier that day comes back to her, so her heart beats loudly.

_Darn you, Carly._

Freddie loves the feeling of her so close to him, even with the hard casts and slings and bandages in the way. Her blonde hair is tickling his chin, and he almost laughs.

Sam breathes in his scent. It's almost like a mix of peppermint and smoke. Not cigarette smoke, but a soothing fireplace kind of smoke. She likes it.

No, she _loves_ it.

Freddie suddenly trips over a fold in the rug and stumbles, practically dropping Sam in the chair. She grimaces at the pain that results, but it isn't too bad. For some reason it's funny, and she starts laughing.

He, on the other hand, freaks out and kneels before her. "Oh my God, are you okay? I really didn't mean to—does it hurt? I'm _SO_ sorry—"

And then he sees that she's laughing.

"Typical Freddie," Sam comments, and he laughs with her a little bit. Until he _really_ looks at her, that is.

That smile. That laugh. That…girl.

That urge.

With his left hand, Freddie grabs Sam's face and crashes his lips onto hers.

She breathes in sharply and stares at him. His eyes are closed and his jaw tightens, deepening the kiss. She can't move. She can't respond. She can't do _anything_.

And then, like a slap to the face, Freddie pulls away, eyes wide open, terrified.

They stare at each other in silence for a moment.

"Sorry," he whispers.

Sam swallows. She wants him. God, she _needs _him.

"It's cool."

A wave of something that feels like déjà vu washes over her, even though she knows stuff like that doesn't exist. But it still feels like maybe, in some alternate universe, this conversation happened or would have happened.

Freddie isn't moving, horrified at what he did. She didn't kiss him back. At _all._

What did he just _do_?

Sam's pride is overpowered by that feeling in her gut, that feeling of desire and lust and need. So she leans toward him a little bit, hoping that he'll get the message.

And boy, does he ever.

Freddie's right hand slides to the spot right below her ear, his other hand pulling at her waist. At first, he doesn't end up kissing her directly on the mouth because of the urgency, but quickly fixes it a second later, sucking her bottom lip and occasionally rolling his jaw to get a different angle.

This definitely isn't like their first kiss on the fire escape, especially when Freddie's tongue somehow finds its way into her mouth. She lets out a deep, hot breath and moans softly, not finding the sense to be embarrassed about it.

Freddie's kissing her, again and again and again, not willing and not able to stop. She tastes so good, but he doesn't know like what. Kissing Sam just feels so right and perfect and…it's everything he could imagine and more.

His actions are frantic and passionate, and Sam loves the way he's pressing into her back and squeezing her waist and threading his fingers through her hair. She can barely keep up with him, and this should bother her, but somehow it doesn't.

Freddie's jaw eventually cramps up and aches, so he slows down, allowing the both of them to breathe a little bit more. They pant into each other's mouths, exhausted from the encounter but needing every moment of it.

The last kiss Freddie gives her is soft and sweet, lasting well longer than their fire escape kiss. Her heart feels like it'll burst out of her chest at any second, and when he finally pulls away, they both gasp for some well-needed oxygen.

They take a minute to recover, and Sam's inner voice is screaming at her. _You were just tortured and RAPED! How can you even be thinking about kissing someone right now? Isn't there supposed to be some sort of waiting period? How come you don't feel utterly violated and used right now?_

Because she just…doesn't.

And then she hears him say, "I meant it when I said it and I still do."

Sam knows she's supposed to know what he means and it's supposed to be romantic, but she always ruins moments and this moment is no different.

"Huh?"

He lets out an unsteady laugh and places his hand on her good knee. "What I said to you on the phone a few weeks ago. I do. That might not have been the _best_ time to say it, but—"

It clicks, but Sam pretends she still doesn't get it. "What are you talking about?"

Freddie sighs, nervous about saying it out loud but overjoyed that she's giving him the opportunity to. Hopefully this is the right time.

"I…I love you, Sam."

It rings in the air like the shockwaves of a recent bomb, and Freddie's heart pumps when she gives him a sly smirk. "So you do, huh?"

His mouth drops open, but he wonders why he's even surprised. He grins. "So you did know what I was talking about."

"Well…not at first." Sam snorts. "But it was funny watching you squirm there."

Freddie sighs. "Typical Sam," he teases, mocking her from earlier.

They stare at each other for a second.

"So…now what?" Sam blurts.

Freddie shrugs; he can't stop smiling at her. She's just so beautiful. "I guess we'll see what happens along the way."

"August, Freddie."

That shuts him up for a minute.

"You'll be in California," Sam continues. "And I'll be here."

"We'll figure it out," he tries, sliding his hand up back to her waist. Freddie feels her shiver and smirks at her when she curses. "Am I turning you on, Ms. Puckett?"

"You're just so proud of yourself right now, aren't you?"

"Yup."

He moves in closer to her, but before he can kiss her again, Sam leans in and lands her mouth on his neck, kissing and biting and whatever else she can think of to make him cave. And he does, almost right away.

"Oh my _God_, Sam," he breathes. "You win."

She sits back against the chair, smug.

"I always do."

* * *

**I write this as I pet sit these two beautiful dogs. GAHHHHH I LOVE THEMMM!**

**PLEASE review. It means the universe to me. And I'll bet that you guys LOVED this chapter, hehe. Thanks to those who did last chapter: 'nadene-seddiefan', 'iShip Seddie', 'SeddieFan99', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'selfless seddie', 'akarandomfang', 'PinaySeddier', 'ilove2shipseddie', 'TheAngeloflego', 'Lauren', 'hejk12345', 'irishfan62', 'unquestionable-honour', 'twnklingsediestr', 'green aura', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'SEDDIE3', and 'jimbo74'.**

'**selfless seddie' – me too; I am DEFINITELY PRO-LIFE. It's hard writing in the point of view of someone who isn't sure/wants an abortion. But I guess that's how Sam would react. Thanks for your input!**

'**Lauren' – thanks! We'll see!**

'**twnklingsediestr' – really? Thank you!**

'**SEDDIE3' – every Saturday I update! Thanks!**


	10. Chapter Nine: Concealing Hurt

**My week was really bad, so if this chapter is too…I just really hope it isn't.**

**Chapter Nine: Concealing Hurt**

* * *

"I have to go."

"What?" Sam hates how disappointed she feels.

"Yeah," Freddie sighs. "My mom said she needs help around the apartment…whatever that means."

"Speaking of, I'm pretty sure Crazy wouldn't like you and me…uh…"

Freddie smirks. "You and me…what?"

She glares at him. "Shut up."

"Talking? Eh. Touching?" He places a warm hand on her thigh, and Sam catches a breath. "Not at _all_. But this?" Freddie grins and kisses her passionately and deeply for a few seconds. Sam blushes like a wimpy girl. "She'd be dead if she knew. But she doesn't. So that's alright."

"Yeah. Since when do I care what Crazy thinks?" Sam agrees. "She already hates me."

"Well…yeah." Freddie stands up. "Do you need me to do anything before I go?"

Sam thinks. "Can you text Carly and tell her to come back?"

"Sure." He pulls out his phone and turns to go.

"When will _you_ be back?" Sam blurts before she can stop herself.

Freddie turns around and gives her a "yeah I know I'm awesome" look and says, "Why?"

"Don't make me hurt you," Sam warns. "I'll make Carly get me the buttersock."

That's _not_ an item that Freddie wants to mess with, so he gives up his macho act. "Whenever I can. Could be tonight, maybe tomorrow."

"Well when you do, bring me a smoothie and some pie. I could _really_ use some pie."

Freddie snickers. "Got it, Princess Puckett." When he gets to the door and opens it, he jumps back inside the house.

"What?"

"Uh…" Freddie peeks out of one of the tiny windows. "This is probably the _last_ thing you want to hear, but there are a _ton_ of press people outside."

Sam widens her eyes. "You mean like paparazzi people?"

"Yup."

"How many?"

He presses his lips together. "There have to be like ten news trucks out there and definitely a lot more people." Before they couldn't hear the crowd, but now that the buzzards got a glimpse of Freddie, cameras are flashing, fancy tech equipment is recording makeup-encrusted Barbies, and reporters are yelling out random, insensitive questions.

Sam's blood boils. "Are they on the property?"

"No, no," he says quickly. "I think they could go to jail for that or something. They're on the street."

"Do those people seriously have nothing better to do than pry into my life so that others can entertain themselves by reading about my pain?" Sam snaps.

Freddie walks over to her with a sympathetic smile and touches her cheek. "Unfortunately."

She tilts her head into his hand and sighs. "Guess you won't be leaving then, huh?"

He bites his lip, tempted. "My mom would probably think I was dead. Even if I texted her."

"Are you sure?" Sam gives him a seductive look and enjoys watching him suffer through a decision, but it doesn't take long.

"God, Sam…" Freddie gives in for a minute and leans to kiss her again. She surprises him by moving to his jaw and then his neck. He likes that. A lot. Eh, make that _too_ much.

He reluctantly pulls away and pants. "I can't handle you, Puckett."

Sam is very satisfied. "Well too bad. You kissed me first."

Freddie snorts and kisses her forehead. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I do have to go. Unfortunately," he adds, looking her up and down. Man, even with those casts she's breathtaking.

Sam sighs. "Well you can sneak out the back door and hop the fence into Psycho Sam's yard. Then just run like hell until you're off his property and then you're home free."

"Uh…is there any way I can _avoid_ your psychotic neighbors?"

Sam just gives him a look.

Freddie knows that if he kisses her "goodbye," he won't be leaving anytime soon, so he walks toward the back. "I'll tell Carly to sneak in through the back too."

"Oh, and can we not tell her about…this…either? I'm not in the mood to answer five million questions."

He laughs knowingly. "I feel like we're Monica and Chandler on F.R.I.E.N.D.S., but okay."

Sam hears the door shut, and suddenly she's very bored. She reaches for her phone on the small table next to her chair and checks her calls.

No missed calls and no new messages.

Admittedly, Sam is _not_ a huge fan of her mom. But seriously? It's been a few weeks. Hasn't she read the news?

As soon as that question enters her mind, Sam laughs at herself. Why would her mother of all people read the newspaper?

It'd be nice if she cared, though.

Sam dials her mother's number and waits two rings. "What?" booms a crabby voice.

"Mom? Where are you?"

"Who is this?"

Sam rolls her eyes. "It's Sam. Your _daughter_. Are you drunk or something?"

"No, you brat. Don't be smart with me, young lady."

"Where are you?" Sam repeats impatiently.

"I dunno, maybe Nevada. Everywhere I look, people are getting married."

Something inside of Sam wilts. "Have you seen the news lately?"

"Sam, I'm on a road trip. What do _you _think?"

Sam bites her tongue so hard that she's sure there'll be blood. "So you don't know what happened to me?"

Pam Puckett's voice gets louder. "I don't have time for this! What, did your webshow thing win some award or whatever?"

Now Sam's angry. "I was abducted and raped!"

Silence on the other line except for muffled background noise. And then, "What?"

"You heard me."

"What did you _do_?" Pam screams. "I told you not to go walking around dressed like a slut! See what happens?"

Sam's mouth drops open, even though she tells herself that she shouldn't be surprised. What was she expecting? Her mother to come rushing home and wrap her in a hug? What is this, Disney Channel?

Not _her_ life.

Hot tears gather in Sam's eyes, and she snarls, "Sorry, didn't get the memo." Her thumb slams down on the end button.

She doesn't cry, but she sure feels like it.

* * *

Those annoying emotions are gone by the time Carly stumbles through the back door. Her dark hair and eyes are wild, and she shrieks, "That guy chased me with a shovel!"

"That's Psycho Sam for you. He's harmless, though."

"_Harmless_?" Carly drops her purse and jacket down on the couch. "I seriously doubt that."

"Okay, whatever." Sam takes the hospital information booklet from the table and asks, "Can you go through this procedure thing with me? I never listen in anatomy, but you do…so…"

Carly rolls her eyes, but Sam can see a tiny smile creeping onto her face. "Okay. But first things first," she declares, plopping down on the couch beside her things. "Do you want kids?"

"Uh, no! Hence me looking into an _abortion_ procedure!"

"No, not now!" Carly slaps a hand to her forehead. "I mean when you're married and stuff, so—"

"Who says I'm getting married?" Sam interrupts.

"Okay, whatever!" Carly throws her hands in the air. "Would you want a little Sam Puckett running around in the future? Or two?"

"Um, you mean a booger-faced poop machine? I think I'll pass."

"Sam! Having kids would be amazing!" Carly insists. "You get to teach them how to walk and talk and take them to zoos and playgrounds and squeeze their cheeks and everything!"

"Well then help yourself. I have the sense to not want one of those things. Now _or_ in the future."

"Oh," Carly says quietly.

"Why?"

"Well, an abortion can decrease your ability to have children afterwards, so if you go through with the procedure—"

"It obviously won't be an issue for me," Sam points out. "You're not going to change my mind, Carls. Sorry. I don't want a rapist's baby."

"Okay, okay," Carly sighs. "Not even adoption?"

"I've heard giving birth is a million times worse than period cramps. And those are EVIL."

"But—"

"Carly…" Sam growls.

The brunette quickly opens the packet and starts converting the science nonsense into English. Almost immediately, Sam wishes she didn't ask for that. She constantly butts in with "Ew, that's nasty!" and "Seriously?" and "Ow, what the hell? _Why_? Why would anyone let someone do that to them?"

_I am NOT passing on the Shadow Hammer's genes, _Sam reminds herself. _There's not enough money in the world that would convince me to do it._ _Besides, I'll be knocked unconscious by some magical drugs! I won't feel it!_

But then Carly reads about the symptoms she'll probably have for weeks after the procedure, and suddenly period cramps seem like a walk in the park.

And _then_ her best friend gets to the section on emotional side effects like guilt and depression and all that, and _that_ seems to go on for pages and pages and more pages…

Sam sighs. _This'll be fun._

* * *

Another long week goes by, with nothing special happening. More bandages come off of Sam's skin, and fresh scars are exposed. She's not sure whether she should feel more self-conscious or less about her appearance.

The nightmares have started. Some about the Shadow Hammer coming back to life and killing her, some more about the fetus eating Sam's insides and killing her, some about Sam giving birth to the fetus prematurely and then she dies.

Thank goodness she's woken up screaming to an empty house. She'd be humiliated if anyone was there.

_The procedure is over, and Sam feels great. No cramps or nausea or whatever the doctor said she'd feel. The Shadow Hammer no longer has a reason for MINE to be inscribed on her stomach. He's out of her for good._

_The child-version of the Shadow Hammer appears before her, but his eyes are blue like Sam's. _

"_Why did you do that to me?" He cries. "I didn't do anything wrong."_

_Sam loses her ability to speak._

"_I wasn't going to turn out like him. I was going to be a doctor, or maybe a volleyball coach for a high school. I'm a good person. Why did you do that?"_

_She wants to tell him that he's a liar and that Sam isn't ready to take care of a kid. Especially one that reminds her of that trauma. _

_But then the kid's eyes turn black and his skin scarlet. He lights up in flames and comes at her, burning her alive and scratching her eyeballs out and ripping the hair out of her scalp. _

And of course, she wakes up screaming. And someone is there this time.

"Woah, woah, what happened? Shh, it's okay," she hears. Sam recognizes the voice and almost bursts into tears.

"You're safe, Sam," Freddie whispers, petting her hair and hugging her middle. "I'm right here."

It takes a minute for the full weight of embarrassment to kick in.

"So what's up, Benson?" Sam tries nonchalantly.

Freddie uses his thumb to wipe away a tear on her cheek. "You want to talk about it?"

"This isn't some cliché movie, okay? I don't want to talk about it," she snaps.

Freddie kisses the top of her head, concealing his hurt. "Okay." He helps her sit up, and she looks at him expectantly. "Did you bring me my smoothie?"

"Not this time."

"Du-ude!" Sam complains. "I'm hungry!"

"Well then eat this," Freddie says before kissing her. He pulls back, and there's a pouty look on her face. He mimics it.

"You're the worst," Sam insists.

He lets out a loud breath and cups her cheek.

"Sam…I have to tell you something."

* * *

**Thanks to both my long-time and new reviewers (and all readers) 'Kezziexx', 'SeddieFan99', 'PinaySeddier', 'ilove2shipseddie', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'irishfan62', 'Kyle McShade', 'seddie perfection', 'Lauren', 'Guest', 'akarandomfang', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'unquestionable-honour', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'Megan', 'jimbo74', 'hejk12345', 'selfless seddie', 'TheAngeloflego', 'Julziexx3', 'green aura', 'this little heart of mine', and 'Winter'.**

'**Lauren' – teehee, don't we all love to fangirl and squeal embarrassingly. Thanks so much!**

'**Guest' – thank you! I'm glad**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – haha yeah you enjoy that chapter while you can. Thanks!**

'**Megan' – thank you! Indeed.**

'**selfless seddie' – I dunno! I forgot about Carly. Thanks!**

'**Winter' – thanks I hope so!**


	11. Chapter Ten: Blackout

**This week was terrible too, but for COMPLETELY different reasons. **

**First of all, this is the second time I'm retyping ALL of this. I'm NOT happy right now. Stupid Microsoft formatting…I could just…**explosion****

**Second, I haven't seen a single moment of Glee, but my heart goes out to Cory Monteith's loved ones, especially Lea Michele.**

**Also, Cote/Ziva is leaving NCIS. WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLL?! This show is going to crash and burn without her, and more importantly, my OTP! What's my life going to be like without Ziva&Tony?**

**To make things worse, ABC Family cancelled The Lying Game. NOOOO. There are so many questions with NO answers. At ALL. And no chance for Emma & Ethan to reunite.**

**But wait; there's more. ABC Family (idiotic network) is creating a Pretty Little Liars spinoff, and they're taking Tyler/Caleb off of PLL to be a main role in this supernatural GARBAGE. I mean, if Tyler wants to do that, good for him, but come ON. Supernatural? Give me a break. **

**And I'm not done yet! Touch was cancelled on Fox. What the HELL is happening to all my shows?**

**Thanks for letting me rant. As if you had a choice. Kudos if you actually read all that.**

**Chapter Ten: Blackout**

* * *

For some reason, it feels like Sam is slapped across the face. She jerks her face away from his hand, and he takes a step back. She thought he wanted her. What changed?

"It's about your abortion appointment," Freddie says, staring at Sam's angry then relieved then confused face.

"What? What about it?"

He scratches the back of his neck. "I called them to learn more about the procedure they'll be doing for you and the topic of scheduling came up and…well, I'm confused," Freddie finishes.

"Okay…" she gives him an impatient look.

"Well, I know that you want the procedure done ASAP, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Then how come it's scheduled in another week? When you made the appointment a week or so ago, they had openings consistently since then."

Sam's stomach turns. "Huh? Carly talked with them. They didn't have any open appointment windows until Thursday!"

"That's not what the receptionist told me…" Freddie starts, and then pauses. _Oh man. Sam's gonna kill Carly, and Carly will then kill me._

"Carly," Sam growls.

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up, I mean, she probably just wanted to give you more time to think about it—"

"I can't believe this! It's MY decision! How does she _not_ get this? It's like there's acid in my stomach and it's eating at me!" Sam rants, and then regrets opening her mouth. She hates the flash of sympathy Freddie gives her with his eyes.

"I want it _out_," she whimpers softly, then bursts into tears.

Freddie instantly sits next to her on the couch and slides his arm around her back, moving his thumb in tiny circles. "Why are you crying?" He pushes some hair out of her face.

Sam inwardly curses at herself, but she still can't stop crying. "Why doesn't anyone get it? I'm suddenly a bad person for wanting an abortion and they'll call me a baby-killer but I was _raped_ and I just—just…" she takes in a shuddering breath.

"I'm not here to judge you, Sam," Freddie insists, scooching closer. "We all have our opinions on things. Anyone that does judge you is stupid. No one but you knows everything that happened that day."

"Then why do I feel so _awful_?" Sam squeaks.

Freddie blinks. "About what?"

She sniffs. "Wanting an abortion."

"That's…normal," he tries.

Sam absolutely _hates_ opening up or whatever people call it, but as soon as she saw that flash of sympathy in Freddie's eyes, she's become this ugly, blubbery mess.

"I know it's like killing a life and I get what you and Carly believe and all—" she whimpers and continues her run-on sentence. "—and I know the thing inside me didn't do anything wrong and it's bad to punish it for its father's crimes and that whole thing but every time I breathe it's like it gets a little bigger inside of me and it's like the Shadow Hammer's still alive and torturing me and I just—" Sam starts coughing and gasping for breath.

"Sshhh…" Freddie hushes. "Take a breath. It's okay."

She obeys. "I'm so _confused_. Why did Carly have to do that? If I had the appointment at their first opening, I wouldn't be feeling so…hellish."

He chooses his words carefully. "I'm not taking Carly's side or anything—not that there should _be_ sides or that you two are arguing or something—but maybe it's better to think it through and not have regrets later."

"I hate making decisions," Sam mumbles, burying her face in his shirt. Her forehead lands on his broad shoulder, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

They're both silent for a minute until Freddie says, "Sorry I brought this up. I don't like seeing you upset."

"Well I don't like _being_ upset," Sam retorts in her usual style. Freddie lets out a soft laugh and hugs her a little tighter, chest swelling with some feeling that he doesn't recognize.

She sighs. "Can you _please_ get me a smoothie now?"

"Sure."

Sam watches him leave, and when the door closes, she picks up her phone with her good hand and searches her calls for the number.

It rings one and a half times. "Bernstein Women's Clinic, Barb speaking. How may I help you today?"

Sam hates making decisions, so she's making sure that she doesn't have to.

"I'd like to move an appointment I have next week to whatever time you have open tomorrow."

* * *

"You still haven't told me where we're going, Sam."

The blonde scrutinizes the Map application on her phone. "Turn right at Walker Street."

Freddie sighs and acquiesces, rotating the steering wheel. "Sam—"

"Shut up, we're almost there," she interrupts.

Freddie huffs but knows he's not actually annoyed. Sam then points to a parking lot entrance, and he sees the sign.

"Sam…" he starts, giving her a look, but stops when he sees that her eyes are closed and she's wincing.

"Don't," she whispers.

Freddie parks the car in silence. He wants to ask her if Carly knows about the appointment change, but what does it matter? Turning the key in the ignition, he places a hand on her good shoulder. "Sorry." When she looks at him with those scared, blue eyes, all he wants to do is kiss her fear and pain away.

She gives him a tiny smile. Freddie's heart jumps, and he gets out of the car and opens the trunk. Sam already has her door open by the time he brings the wheelchair to her.

"Ready?" he asks.

She nods.

Sam can feel his strength through his thin, grey shirt and loves how safe she feels when in his arms. For a moment, the reason she's at the clinic fades from her mind.

Then she's in the uncomfortable wheelchair and it all comes crashing back.

She wants to cry, but she's done enough of that yesterday.

* * *

They've been sitting in the waiting room for ten minutes now. Freddie reaches over and takes Sam's hand. He meant to comfort her, but when he feels her trembling, he whips his hand back.

"Sam?"

His heart wrenches as he watches both of her hands shake. Sam looks at him, bites her lip, and looks down.

"Can you…kiss me?"

Normally he would have milked it and playfully made fun of her, but not this time. His fingers immediately graze her chin and he leans over. Freddie carefully connects his mouth to hers, softly keeps the position, and slowly pulls away.

It was the sweetest and most sensitive thing she's ever experienced. Stupid hormones; now she wants to cry again.

"Don't hate me," she whispers, closing her eyes.

"Never."

"Sam Puckett?" A woman in a long, white coat calls from behind the front desk. A nurse starts walking toward her, and all Sam wants to do is scream and latch on to Freddie and beg him not to let them take her away. Instead, she croaks, "Yeah?"

A fake smile. "We're ready for you." The nurse has short, brown hair and looks to be in her fifties.

"See you in a few," Sam hears Freddie tell her. She doesn't respond, transfixed by the nurse's hands landing on the back handles of her wheelchair and pushing her away.

* * *

Sam listens to her go through the details of the procedure again as she's wheeled down the hallway. It sounds worse than how the hospital packet described it, and Sam's hands start to sweat and shake again.

She looks to the right through an open door and sees a girl about sixteen years old sitting on the edge of a bed. Her red hair is frizzy and matted, eyes dull and glazed over. Dark circles around her eyes interrupt her pale skin, which is almost the same color as her hospital gown. The girl's hands are clutching her lower stomach. She looks so heartbroken and lost, and Sam sees a dark red splotch on the bed sheets near where she's sitting.

Sam's heart pounds furiously as they pass the room.

* * *

The nurse leaves her alone in a bland room that has scuffmarks all over the walls. Sam's mind wanders to Melanie and how she's probably having a blast at her summer program. Then she thinks about her mom, getting drunk and gambling in Nevada while her daughter is in a clinic getting an abortion.

That reminds her of how Carly doesn't know that she's here either and how devastated she'll be when Sam comes back baby-free. She hasn't seen Spencer in a while. Sam wonders what other things he's set on fire since his last visit. She also asks herself why Gibby won't take his shirt off anymore.

Sam flashes back to that kiss, so gentle and loving, like he was afraid that he'd break her. His hot whisper in her ear, a soft but firm _Never_, the way he can pick her up as if she's a feather, the way those brown eyes can sear through her skin, the—

"Ms. Puckett?" The door to Sam's bland room shuts after a tall woman walks in. She says her name, but Sam immediately forgets it. The lady eyes Sam's casts and sticks a hand out to shake her good hand.

"I can see that you have a lot of…items…on your body, but let me assure you that I can still perform the procedure in the same noninvasive manner."

_Is it even possible to perform an abortion non-invasively? _Sam thinks.

The doctor snaps on some disposable gloves. "I assume that you've been informed about how the procedure will go?"

Sam simply nods while thinking, _A little too much._

"Well then, let's get started." She goes on to talk about the type of anesthesia Sam will be on, but the blonde's mind again wanders; this time, to the redhead on the bed. She wonders why the young girl is in the clinic. Maybe she has a fertility issue? Ovary malfunction?

The doctor presses a lever with her foot, and Sam's bed starts to recline.

_Baby killer._

All of the supplies are wheeled over near her bed.

_MINE._

The woman prepares the anesthesia mask.

_The red-haired girl's eyes full of regret and loss._

The mask is placed in Sam's hand.

_The splotch of red on the bed sheets. _

The doctor guides Sam's hand and mask over her nose.

_Blood?_

"Alright Sam, count backwards from ten."

_Was she on her period?_

"Ten…"

It hits her like a semi.

_She just had an abortion._

Everything starts getting fuzzy and dark. Sam panics and mumbles, "W—wa—wait…don't…"

She blacks out.

* * *

**Please review and tell me how this chapter went...sorry it's a little on the short side. I felt like all that needed to be said was said and everything that needed to happen happened.**

**And a HUGE thanks to those who made me feel better last week: 'Lauren', 'Kyle McShade', 'SeddieFan99', 'seddie perfection', 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'Kezziexx', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'Julziexx3', 'MegColes', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'selfless seddie', 'PinaySeddier', 'hejk12345', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'Winter', 'iShip Seddie', 'jimbo74', 'Megan', 'icarlyvictoriousfan', 'green aura', 'akarandomfang', and 'LyshaLuvsSeddie'.**

'**Lauren' – you need to read more stories, woman! [this is me trying to be modest] thanks!**

'**selfless seddie' – thanks! The pleasure is all mine since I get to write them :)**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – yeah, this story brings up a lot of touchy subjects in today's society. I'd like to write more about that kind of stuff. thanks!**

'**Winter' – thank you!**

'**Megan' – heh, well you see how THAT went XD thanks**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Personal

**Man, I just have NOT been having the best weeks! But I don't think it will damage my writing abilities this time.**

**Chapter Eleven: Personal**

* * *

"_Sam! The show starts in twenty seconds!"_

_It's weird; the outline of Carly's body is shimmering and blurry. When the brunette grabs Sam's lower arm, she doesn't feel it._

"_Remember we're doing the farm girl squirrel bit first." They head up the stairs. "Then we can do your new skit idea."_

_Sam blinks, but she doesn't feel her eyelids close. _

_The door to the studio swings open, and Freddie is doing last-minute tech adjustments. "Eight seconds."_

"_Ready?" Carly asks, fixing her fading hair. The room looks so bright and hazy. Shapes of objects in the room are warping._

_Freddie doesn't do the countdown, and Sam's confused. Why is everything so shiny? Why can't she talk or feel anything? How come there's no countdown?_

"_Sam, your skit is up," Carly hisses in her ear._

_She still can't speak._

_Freddie looks at Sam with bored eyes. "Well?"_

_It's like he's looking straight through her. He looks so disinterested and lifeless. In a moment, Sam realizes that they aren't together. Freddie could care less about her._

"_Sam!" Carly whines._

_She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Her face feels fuzzy. So does her stomach._

_And then pops out a baby doll. _

"_Is that your prop?" Carly's eyebrows come together._

"_We don't have all night," Freddie drones._

_How did she even get here? Sam doesn't remember going to Bushwell Plaza._

_The doll is in her hands. She feels its heaviness but not its surface._

_Everything goes white._

"Sam, honey?" she hears.

She blinks multiple times and sees the doctor looming over her. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam remembers the redheaded girl. Her heart thuds. "Did you…is it…?"

The woman gives her a thin smile, and Sam feels like she's dying. Then she hears, "Not yet, sweetie. I heard you saying something before the anesthesia took over. I just wanted to make sure before I went through with the operation."

Sam is on the verge of crying. "I think I want to go home."

* * *

At first she thinks it's sunlight, but the flashing noises and screams of nagging buzzards fill her with horror.

"Sam, what's going to happen to iCarly?"

"How do you feel about having an abortion?"

"Does this mean you're pro-choice?"

"Are you and Freddie dating?"

All of the questions and more are shouted at once, and Freddie and Sam are blinded by it all as soon as they come out of the clinic. The dark-haired boy is furious when he hears Sam's short yells of panic.

"Get away from her!"

Freddie moves in front of Sam, blocking out reporters and paparazzi as he pulls the wheelchair toward him and to the parking lot. Without hearts or consciences, the maniacs jog after them, repeating the questions and snapping more photos. Sam puts her head down so that her hair covers her face. She silently sobs. She wants Freddie to pick her up and start running, but she'll need that chair eventually.

The people and their cameras surround Freddie's car as he swiftly loads Sam into the front seat and closes the door. He runs over to the trunk, opens it, and tosses the chair in without folding it. He's surprised it fits.

Freddie can hear Sam screaming. Craning his neck around the back of the car, he sees that someone actually had the _nerve_ to open the door on the passenger side. The blonde is shrinking away from the lights and the shouts, terrified.

"HEY!" He screams, racing to the door and slamming it shut. Before he can stop himself, Freddie shouts profanities at the reporters—even threatening to put one woman into a coma—and shoves another man away, almost making him fall over. Freddie uses the button on his keys to lock the car as he races to the driver's side. In a split second, he unlocks the car, opens his door, jumps in, and locks the doors again.

Sam is still hiding behind her hair long after Freddie starts up the car and loses the reporters.

* * *

Freddie wheels Sam into his bedroom. Thankfully, his mother is still at work.

The blonde hasn't said one word since the appointment and paparazzi nightmare. The doctor let Freddie know what was going on with the procedure when she decided to just let Sam sleep the anesthesia off.

"Hey," he whispers, crouching in front of her.

Sam lifts her tired eyes up to meet his. Her chest contracts and tightens when he touches his hand to her face. She closes her eyes and leans into him.

Freddie kisses her forehead. "I love you."

She can't help it. The tears come falling down and the sobs echo out of her mouth.

His heart breaks, and he picks her up and holds her tight into his chest. Freddie doesn't shush her or say that it'll be okay. He just lets her cry as his left arm shrieks from the heaviness and roughness of the cast on her leg. When Freddie can't bear it anymore, he lays Sam down on his bed and crawls next to her.

_Never show fear,_ Sam tells herself. _Don't do it._

"I'm scared," she whimpers, then curses.

"Whatever decision you make, I know it'll be the right one," Freddie says, throwing an arm on his pillow above Sam's head. "And I won't let those idiots bother you anymore."

"You probably shouldn't have sworn at them. They eat that stuff up," Sam mumbles.

"I don't care what they like," Freddie insists. "I care about you."

Sam should've groaned at the line, but for some reason, she likes it and turns her head to look at him.

Man, those eyes. "This probably isn't the most _appropriate_ time to do this, but…" Freddie cuts his sentence short by kissing her; first softly, but harder when she responds. And of course then it turns into a full-blown make out session.

Sam hates the fact that all she can do is lay there and not be able to grab the back of his neck or pull at his hair. She's worried that maybe he'll get tired of kissing her since he's basically not getting anything in return.

Freddie threads his fingers through her hair and tugs at her waist, not able to get enough Puckett. He isn't sure where Sam learned to kiss like this. Every time he sucks her bottom lip, she fights back by attacking his upper lip, and vice versa. When he slides his tongue into her mouth, her breath sets his mouth on fire.

He's lost in her, not realizing it when his hand slips under the bottom of her shirt. Then his fingers feel warm, adjusting to the temperature of her skin. Freddie runs his finger over a small mole, and he feels Sam get goosebumps. He starts to smile into another kiss, but he feels her mouth begging for more, so Freddie picks up the intensity and drags his fingers across her side.

Sam lets out a half-whimper half-moan, and Freddie gets so…tense…that he forces himself to breathe more, trying to control himself. The tightness in his body screams at him, begging for a quick relief, but he gradually slows down, taking the long and torturous road back to regularity.

It definitely takes a few minutes, and when Freddie feels his jaw start to fall off, his head collapses on the bed next to her and they both gasp for air, trying to calm themselves down.

It seems to take Sam longer to catch her breath, and Freddie presses his forehead against hers, watching a bead of sweat form near her hairline. He smears it away with his thumb and closes his eyes, breathing into her face.

"I'd give you a B minus," Sam finally says. When Freddie's eyes open, he sees her smirk. "Shut up," he growls playfully, squeezing her side lightly. She laughs.

They spend another minute just lying there. "I can't wait for some of these casts to come off next week."

Freddie plays with a strand of her hair. "Are we about to hit the six-week mark?"

"Mhmm," she hums, then sighs. "I can't believe it's the end of July already."

Sam feels his grip on her tighten. "I'm not going anywhere. Well, I am, but—" he falters. "You know what I mean. I hope."

She tries to sound lighthearted, but fails. "What about those California girls?"

Freddie snorts and pulls her even closer. "You have to be kidding."

Sam starts to shrug, can't, and instead buries her face in the crook of his neck.

He leans away, however, and picks up her chin with his right hand. "Hey. I'm _yours_," Freddie says firmly.

She raises her eyebrows and smirks. "Uh huh."

Which gives Freddie an excuse to kiss her again.

* * *

Another week goes by, and slings and casts on Sam's hand, shoulder, knee, and ankle are removed. Physical therapy starts for the "healed" joints while her elbow and thigh are still bandaged up. The burns on her stomach go through round one of cosmetic treatment. The doctors are cautious about Sam's…condition.

She's considered calling the women's clinic about fifty more times, but her fingers won't dial the numbers. Sure, they can move, but they won't dial.

Sam hates herself for it. She hates the fetus, she hates the Shadow Hammer, she hates her fear, and she hates her future. When Freddie leaves, Sam isn't sure what she'll do.

And of course, Sam hates the wheelchair she still has to sit in. At least she's not completely dependent on it, though. She can finally go to the bathroom by herself. Showering, well, she still needs Carly. It's gotten less embarrassing, but Sam is still mortified. And annoyed that her mother hasn't come home yet. She's learned to ignore that anger though.

"What are you thinking about?" Carly cuts into her thoughts.

Sam also learns to ignore the guilt she feels for not telling Carly about her and Freddie.

She can't ignore the disappointment of Freddie not being here right now, though. Sam hates his mother with a burning passion. Why is she making him pack for college _now_?

"Sam?"

She blinks. "Sorry. I don't know. I can't believe I'm doing this."

Carly squeezes her shoulder. "Surreal, right? Your first prenatal visit."

Sam suddenly pales. "It's times like these when I _really_ want an abortion."

The brunette doesn't say anything.

A woman walks toward them, wearing a smile. "Ms. Puckett? We're ready for you."

"Are you familiar with how this works, Ms. Puckett?"

"Uh, no."

Sam starts to think that maybe the doctor's face is frozen that way—in a continuous smile. "It's like a physical, but with a lot of extra steps."

"Gee, that helps," Sam grumbles, and Carly gives her a look.

"First let's do all the basics like blood pressure and a simple blood draw to make sure your blood counts are alright."

"Whatever."

Sam watches the woman as she wraps the itchy band around her arm, squeezes it tight, waits, and glances at the results. The doctor hesitates and rechecks her charts.

"What?"

"I'm just going to do it again. To verify results."

Carly gives Sam a worried look.

The process repeats, and after a moment, the doctor turns to Carly. "Would you mind waiting outside for a minute?"

"What's wrong?" The brunette doesn't move toward the door at all.

"I just have some questions for Sam that could be personal."

* * *

**I know that some of you wanted Sam to have the abortion. Even though I am pro-life, I had no idea where the plot was going to go until I wrote this chapter. Sorry to disappoint any. **

**I think I've decided against the poll for now. My identity crisis kinda wants me to have my story be, well, MINE.**

**Thank you to those who reviewed. I get that a lot of you are on vacation and still read this! That's too amazing. I had the strength for THREE DAYS to write this chap because of 'Kezziexx', 'PinaySeddier', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'MegColes', 'SeddieFan99', 'akarandomfang', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'Lauren', 'iShip Seddie', 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'seddie perfection', 'hejk12345', 'selfless seddie', 'iCarlyWriter', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'Winter', 'jimbo74', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'TheAngeloflego', 'green aura', 'Internett', and 'guest'.**

'**Lauren' – teehee yeah a little bit OOC, but I had to put it in. thank you so much! You are and will always be AWESOME.**

'**selfless seddie' – thanks! Hopefully all your questions were answered.**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – tell me about it. Thanks!**

'**Winter' – heh, thanks.**

'**rimdsloveseddie' – haha thank you!**

'**guest' – it's alright. Thank you very much! Sorry about the plot.**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Hushed Whispers

**This posting-the-chapters-real-early-in-the-morning habit won't continue for long…I head back to college in less than three weeks! For some reason I'm happy about that…**

**FREEDOM!**

**Chapter Twelve: Hushed Whispers**

* * *

"Personal?" Carly echoes.

"Yes." The doctor's patience is waning.

Sam feels a pit growing in her stomach. "It's fine, Carly."

"I don't feel comfortable—"

"You've done enough already, okay?" Sam explodes. "Just leave."

Carly blinks, stunned. "Whatever," she mumbles, sulking out of the room. Sam sighs. She'll deal with her later.

The door clicks shut, and the doctor clears her throat.

"The hospital took your blood pressure when you were checked in, and it was higher than normal but still in what we call the normal range."

"And now?" Sam asks, already knowing.

"It's shot up." The woman shifts in her seat. "A lot. And only in a period of a few weeks."

The blonde nods numbly. _Don't ask…don't ask…_

"Let's discuss your diet over that time."

_Chizz._

"You obviously couldn't exercise with all of your injuries." Sam rolls her eyes as the doctor continues. "How was your exercise routine before all of this happened?"

Sam shrugs. "I ran."

"How often?"

She considers lying, but for some reason doesn't.

"Every day."

The woman nods slowly. "How long?"

Sam sighs and rushes her next words. "A few miles, no big deal."

Something is scribbled onto the clipboard. "How have your eating habits been recently?"

"Um…" Sam hesitates.

"For example," the doctor clears her throat again. "Salty foods? Any foods with potassium or vitamin D? Sweets?"

"Salty foods sure, I guess. I eat junk a lot." Sam stops. "What foods have potassium and vitamin D?"

"Let's see," the woman strokes her chin. "For potassium there's bananas, potatoes, leafy greens, yogurt, fish…"

"Okay, maybe I have like _no_ potassium in my diet," Sam admits.

Some more scribbles. "For vitamin D, we have fish, fortified cereals, oysters, salami—"

"I eat salami! And ham and sausage!" Sam blurts. She can't be _that_ bad.

"Unfortunately, those three have a lot of cholesterol and sodium, which increase hypertension."

Sam glowers.

"Do you know what a binge is?"

Her face pales. "Uh, yeah." Here come the personal questions.

"Have you ever been interviewed about possibly having an eating disorder?"

"I don't have one," Sam says tightly.

"Have you been told this by a psychologist?" the woman insists.

"Yes, okay?" Sam gives in. "But it never got to that point."

"Could you explain that a little bit more?"

She's ready to attack this woman with the buttersock. "Look, I've binged before, but I didn't throw it up. After a while I started running. I don't binge anymore." Sam sighs. "I'm actually telling the truth."

The doctor thankfully decides to move on. "So diet and change in exercise habits have certainly contributed to the jump. How about stress?"

Sam almost bursts out laughing. "You could say I have some."

The doctor nods as if that information breaks the case wide open. "How much? A lot more than usual?"

She thinks about all the times she seems to just burst into tears from all of the tension inside of her. She remembers the terror she felt when the paparazzi attacked her after her failed abortion appointment. "Yeah," Sam whispers.

"Family history?"

Sam doesn't feel like talking about how she doesn't see most of her family anymore. "Look, how many more questions do you have?"

The woman smiles. "No more for now. But I'd like to see a decrease in your blood pressure in the next few months."

Sam squints. "You'd _like_ to or _need_ to?"

The smile is gone. "High blood pressure can cause serious birth complications."

Really? "Like what?"

"Early delivery, low birth weight, and preeclampsia, to name a few."

"Pre-what?"

"Preeclampsia. It's related to high blood pressure and protein levels in your urine. It doesn't sound bad, but it affects your brain, liver, and kidneys. It can also lead to seizures, or eclampsia, which is the second leading cause of maternal death in America."

Sam swallows. "Oh."

* * *

"I didn't tell you the best part!" Sam feigns glee. "It can make you have seizures, and then you die!"

Freddie caresses her cheek. "Take a breath, Sam. Aren't you supposed to avoid stress now?"

Sam snorts. "I love how she's all like, 'Oh, you might die, but don't stress about it!'"

"I think sh—"

"And now I'm supposed to eat _healthy_!" Sam interrupts. "Me. Eat _healthy_!"

"You'll get through this."

"I should've just aborted this thing," Sam grumbles. Freddie doesn't know what to say, except "Did you get to see an ultrasound?"

"Yeah. But I couldn't see the stupid baby even though she kept pointing at it." She acts like it doesn't bother her, but it does.

"It's really small at this point."

Sam decides to take advantage of her healed hand and pulls Freddie toward her by the back of his neck. He grins as her mouth attacks his.

"This'll fix everything," Freddie mutters in between kisses.

"It _does_," she insists, pulling his body closer. They lose themselves in each other for a couple minutes before Sam suddenly pulls back, remembering something. He gives her a disappointed and confused look.

"How was packing?" She won't look at him.

"Boring," Freddie says quickly, trying to avoid the topic. He leans in to kiss her again, but she turns her head away. His heart drops.

"It's August now." Sam bites her lip. Hard.

"Sam…"

"Just three more weeks until you leave!" Sam yells. "And then you're gone! _Gone_! What am I supposed to do? How am I _not_ going to stress out and give myself seizures?"

"Breathe," he reminds her calmly. "Please breathe."

For some reason, that sudden oxygen makes tears fall. Dang it.

"I'm not that far. I'm coming back for breaks and I'll call _all_ the time. We can Skype and FaceTime and whatever the hell technology will let us do these days. I can even take a plane back for a weekend here and there." Freddie puts a hand on her shoulder, but in the process accidentally brushes against her chest. Sam cries out.

"What?" His eyes get wide. "What happened?"

"This is what I'm talking about!"

"Huh?"

"My boobs hurt, for crying out loud!" Sam blurts. "All of these pregnancy symptoms are going to make me go _insane_!"

"I'm sorry..."

"I'm tired _all_ the time and I have to pee like every five minutes!" She doesn't know why she's telling him all of this. "I hate it!"

Freddie pulls her into a hug, and Sam feels guilty and depressed. "Not helping the mood swings," she mumbles into his chest, but he doesn't let go, and she doesn't want him to.

* * *

Carly hands Sam a smoothie and sits down with her at a table in the Groovy Smoothie. It's about four in the afternoon.

"I assume we're good?" the blonde asks.

Her friend smiles. "We're always good."

"Sam?"

_I know that voice…_

She turns her head. "Oh, it's…you."

"Seth," he reminds her. "How are you doing?"

His dark blonde hair hasn't changed a bit. "I'm awesome," she grumbles.

She feels a nudge from Carly. "This is Carly." The brunette harrumphs at the short and simple introduction and gives the guy a dazzling smile.

"From iCarly," Seth points out, making conversation.

"That's me!" Sam watches Carly flip her hair and shake his hand. _God._

"Should I excuse myself to the bathroom?" Sam mumbles, quiet so Seth can't hear but enough for Carly to. She gives Sam a look.

Carly gestures at Seth to sit next to her. He complies after briefly looking at the empty space beside Sam.

"So you're Ambulance Boy." Another big smile.

"Uh…sure?" Seth glances at Sam, but she's swirling her straw in her smoothie. "Is that what Sam's decided to call me?"

She knows that was an invitation to join the conversation, but Sam ignores it. Her smoothie is more important, even though it's a healthy one without ice cream. Curse Carly and her habit of following doctors' orders.

Carly giggles. "Yeah." They talk about some other routine stuff, and Sam blocks it out, wondering where Freddie is. She feels Seth's eyes on her but refuses to look up. Sam feels that same weird vibe she got from him at the hospital. It's the same vibe she got off of that random sophomore who kept trying to talk to her and making lovey eyes at her.

"Well I see that a lot of your casts came off," Seth tries. "That's great!"

Carly elbows her, silently begging Sam to be decent. So she looks up and gives him a fake smile. "Yeah. I felt like a squashed bug before, so anything but that is an improvement."

Sam feels a hand on her back, and from the heat rising into her cheeks, she instantly knows who it is. "About time you got here."

Freddie eyes Seth warily. "You again." He's still standing.

"Hey man!" Seth is either really oblivious or really polite. "The whole gang's here!"

Freddie feels a rush of possessiveness and moves a little closer to Sam. "So where'd you come from?"

Carly jumps in, seeing the tension on his face. "He comes here too!"

Freddie finally sits down next to Sam and slyly slides his hand down to squeeze hers. She feels dizzy. Or maybe that's just nausea from the pregnancy.

And then Seth goes, "Anyway, I was thinking we should hang out sometime, Sam."

Her heart practically stops beating. _What?_

Carly's face falls and Freddie's grip tightens even more.

"Uh, I'm not really up for going anywhere anymore," Sam stutters. "I still have…immobility issues."

Seth gives her a grin, and Sam can't tell if it's fake or not. "No problem. I understand." Then it's like he suddenly gets it, seeing the flush of red on Sam and Freddie's faces. "Wait, are you two going out?"

Sam pretty much wants to die right then and there. Carly's eyes widen and she glances at Freddie, knowing his feelings for the blonde.

"Yes."

Both Sam and Carly's mouths drop open. "Dude!" Sam hisses at Freddie.

He doesn't care; he's on a roll. Freddie stares Seth down and repeats, "Yes we are."

Sam feels like the entire Groovy Smoothie falls silent at that moment. Interrupted by—

"Since _when_?" Carly shrieks. Seth has one of those uh-oh faces.

Sam looks at her lap. "A few weeks ago."

"And you didn't _tell _me?" Carly momentarily forgets that Seth is even there. "I mean—that's great, I'm happy for you two; yay! —but _really_?"

"Sorry."

More silence.

"Well then," Carly says. "Who wants some bread balls on a stick? T-Bo!"

* * *

"That went well," Sam starts as Freddie brings her inside his bedroom.

Freddie rubs his forehead. "I'm sorry. I got a little…"

"Jealous?"

He opens his eyes, sees her smirk, and mimics it. "What can I say?" He crouches in front of her wheelchair, runs his fingers down her side, and whispers, "You're mine."

Sam's breath catches. "All yours."

Freddie swoops her up and lays her on his bed. "I like hearing that." He slides next to her and moves his mouth to hers.

After a minute, he pulls back. Her beauty is breathtaking, so he taps her nose. She snickers.

"How would you feel about spending the night?" He adds an eyebrow-wiggle.

Sam knows that he can hear her heart beating. "What about Crazy?"

"She has the night shift."

Sam smiles. "Interesting. Maybe I can wear your boxers again." She laughs when he turns red, and even harder when he races to his dresser and pulls out a pair and a white shirt.

"Excited, are we?"

"You rocked them last time," he says, kissing her. "They look better on you than on me."

"I know."

* * *

His breath and embrace warm her more than the sheets do. Sam feels so comfortable and safe that she could fall asleep right away, but she fights to stay awake and savor his presence.

Her head feels heavy pressed against his chest, and her legs...and cast...intertwine with his. Freddie pulls her tighter into him and lets out a sigh. When she looks up at him, he kisses her.

Freddie grabs the side of Sam's face and his voice drops to a very serious tone. "I love you _so_ much."

Sam feels tears spring to her eyes and blames it on the hormones. Then she wonders what's stopping her.

"I love you, Freddie."

She feels him stop breathing, and his hand rests heavily on her waist. She hears, "You don't have to—"

"I know," she softly interrupts.

Freddie wants to kiss the life out of her, but he hears her breaths start to even out. He settles for slipping his hand under her shirt and drawing circles on her smooth back.

Sam drifts off to his soothing touch and hushed whispers in her ear.

* * *

**I love you all. Thanks for continuing to read and helping my hobby become something more important…and not just to me. 'TheAngeloflego', 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'MegColes', 'PinaySeddier', 'Lauren', 'SeddieFan99', 'hejk12345', 'seddie perfection', 'Kezziexx', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'Stephanie', 'Himura2323', 'iCarlyWriter', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'selfless seddie', 'jimbo74', 'Megan', 'Winter', 'unquestionable-honour', 'green aura', 'iShipSeddie', and 'SeddieAddict666'.**

'**Lauren' – thank you so much! Hearing this weekly makes all the effort and research I put into this worth it :)**

'**Stephanie' – thank you!**

'**rimdsloveseddie' – aw, thanks.**

'**selfless seddie' – ikr? Yeah, S&F will have issues with that, so I wrote the make out scenes to make up for it haha. I'm not sure yet! I haven't really thought about Carly. Thanks!**

'**Megan' – thank youuu!**

'**Winter' – thanks, that means a lot. And that too!**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Left

**I'm late! Haha, you guys enjoy. Or…probably not. Well, just read.**

**Chapter Thirteen: Left**

* * *

Sam peels her eyes open when she slides her arm across the bed and doesn't feel him there. That and the fact that there are fewer than twenty days until he ditches her leave her with a thick layer of depression. Her head feels fuzzy, her limbs heavy, and her heart cold.

It slowly comes to her awareness that a low buzzing sound is coming from the bathroom. There he is, brushing his teeth.

Without a shirt on.

Sam feels a rush of lust and hate. _He's doing this on purpose. To torture me._

And of course he chooses that moment to look at her and grin, white toothpaste coating his lips. "Muh-neh."

"What?"

Freddie spits and rinses. "Morning."

Sam forces herself to look away and bury her face in the pillow. "Where's your shirt?" comes her muffled voice.

She jumps when his hand tugs at her waist. "Not on me." The mattress next to her creaks under his weight.

Sam turns her head and sees his smirk. "Why?"

What a stupid question.

He pulls her body to him and kisses her. And it's not a soft kiss; it's a hot and heavy attack.

"Too…early…in…morning…" Sam groans, but complies anyway. Because, well, why not?

She feels his abs against her stomach and races her fingers across the skin of his back. Freddie shudders when her nails get him. Sam feels so thin when his muscular arm wraps around her and practically swallows her whole. She starts sweating.

"Don't leave me," she whispers.

He kisses her harder. "Never."

"You will." Sam feels his warm hand on the back of her head.

"No." He moves his lips down to her collarbone. "Don't…say that."

It feels so good that she wants to cry. "Nineteen days," she gasps when Freddie sucks at her neck.

He gives her a final kiss on the lips and pulls back, hating the misery in her eyes. Freddie leans over, grabs a torn piece of newspaper off of his nightstand, and hands it to her.

"What's this?" She takes it.

"Read it."

It's a newspaper cartoon with boy and girl stick figures. The boy asks, _What are you doing?_ Sam reads the girl's response. _Spinning counterclockwise. Each turn robs the planet of angular momentum, slowing its spin the tiniest bit; lengthening the night, pushing back the dawn, giving me a little more time here. With you._

The blonde looks up at him, and Freddie continues, "I saw it in the paper this morning." He makes sure that he establishes firm eye contact. "Sam, we have some time. Let's make the most of it."

Sam wants to scream at him. There's not enough time. Spinning around in circles doesn't give them more of it. What does he want from her?

"I'm not ready," Sam mumbles, blushing.

"Huh?"

"I can't do…that. _It_."

Freddie's eyes widen. "Sam, no. I would never ask that of you."

Sam feels like crawling into a hole and dying. Of course he wasn't talking about _that_.

"I meant spending time together. As much as we can."

She's visibly shaking, either from the humiliation or the sudden temperature change she feels. Freddie pulls her closer. "I could never force you to do anything. _Would_ never."

Sam tries to laugh. "Yeah. Sorry. I just…assumed. Jumped too quickly."

He gives her a sad smile. "You're beautiful."

She pushes the paper back into his hand and rests her head on his chest. "You're such a nerd."

"I'd rather be that than someone who doesn't say those things."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles, feeling a flash of guilt. "Do you have food in this place?"

* * *

Contrary to their previous conversation, Sam spends the following afternoon by herself on the computer. She must be a masochist, because she's living through the fear of the monsters with the flashing cameras again. She Googles her name and the word "abortion" and sees a picture of her and Freddie in the waiting room of the women's clinic. It was texted to the manager of the local news station, and then it ended up everywhere. Who would do that? _Why _would they do that? Money? A sense of accomplishment?

Sam rolls her eyes and slams her laptop shut. Why are some people so cruel?

And everyone wonders why she isn't a people person. Pfft.

Sam wheels around in her chair when she hears Frothy approaching, his loud, clogged breaths giving him away.

"Hey, sport."

He hisses but jumps on Sam's lap anyway. She suddenly starts crying without really getting why. She feels so grateful that she has this stupid "cat" that now she's crying. Curse those hormones. At least she hasn't had mor—

Uh oh.

Sam squeezes her mouth shut and falls out of the chair, hopping on her good leg to the bathroom and barely making it to the toilet before she collapses and vomits into the bowl.

_And so it begins_, she thinks bitterly.

* * *

"I haven't heard from you in a couple days," Freddie says, pushing her into his apartment.

Sam shrugs. "Not feeling too hot."

"How's that even possible?" He grins when she turns her head and rolls her eyes.

"The wonderful wonders of morning sickness." Sam gets a lump in her throat. "What a waste of two days. Sixteen left."

"Sam, stop it," he gently orders as they get to his room. "Your health comes first."

"Unfortunately. This healthy diet thing isn't working for me."

Freddie squats in front of her. "When you get better, I'll buy you a lifetime supply of fat cakes."

Her eyes brighten. "Oh thank _God_."

He kisses her, and the stubble he has after not having shaved for a week tickles her cheek. Nothing about this or him ever gets boring. The rush Sam feels is different and more intense every time. She's embarrassed about telling Freddie that she loves him, though. Sam never planned on saying that, _ever_. She doesn't like being dependent or needing someone so much, and having him know that she does is worse. Freddie has the power to completely break her.

He pulls away. "When's the leg cast coming off?"

"The day after you leave," Sam grumbles. "So I get to be a cripple for you while you're here and normal when you're not."

"I don't know," he whispers huskily, kissing her neck. "Cripples are kinda cute. I have dominance."

"No you don't!" Sam starts to protest, but her heart shuts her up, as does his mouth on hers.

After a minute they stop, and Freddie says, "I'll be right back. Potty break."

Sam snorts. "Thanks for the memo."

He disappears behind the closed door, and she eyes one of his suitcases that's unzipped on the bed. It's full of clothes and cosmetics, and she sighs. Sam can't get over the idea of him getting in a car and just…leaving.

Smiling, she wheels over to his desk and finds a pen and a small piece of paper. Sam knows that it's cheesy and that she'll regret it later, but she writes it anyway.

_You did what all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't do._

He'd get it. He's a nerd like that.

She slips it under a pair of jeans and smiles. A flash of light near his laptop catches her eye, and she squints at it.

Sam laughs, realizing that it's the CD of home videos that was supposed to be sent to his grandmother. She wonders why it's still here.

"Oh, Freddie. Stupid, stupid Freddie," she mumbles giddily to herself. This should be _good_.

She pushes the CD into the laptop slot and waits for video to come up.

_Wait, just audio?_

She presses play.

* * *

"Hey, sorry it took me so l—" Freddie stops, not seeing her blonde hair anywhere. "Sam?" He pokes his head into the hallway. "Sam?" A little louder this time.

Maybe she went over to Carly's? But wouldn't she have told him first?

The afternoon sunlight falls through his bedroom window and reflects off of his computer screen. He glances over. _I thought I turned that thing off…_

It's as if every single cell in him dies, self-destructs, explodes, and lands in dirt.

_Nononono…I put that CD in my desk drawer, right? Or maybe I destroyed it this morning like I told myself I would…_

The audio recording is stopped at the end.

* * *

"_Hello. Having a good hour?"_

Sam freezes. She has that warped voice in her nightmares. Why the _hell_ does Freddie have this? Her face starts heating up.

"_Depends." _It's him. It's Freddie. What…what _is_ this?

"_I'm giving up and forfeiting this game thing. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed."_

"That's not true…I never gave up trying to find you!" Sam can hear him saying those words to her in the hospital room. Liar _LIAR._

"_That's quite strange of you to do, Freddie, after your recent confession to our friend."_

"SAMILOVEYOU!" Sam squeezes her eyes shut, begging for Freddie's voice to get _out_ of her head.

"_Deal with it. I'm done."_

"_Boy, we both know you're not. If you actually love that girl, you wouldn't."_

She can't breathe. Why does he have this?

"_Well maybe I don't! It just came out! You gave me one second, you idiot! What was I _supposed _to say?"_

Sam chokes back a sob. This isn't real. It _can't_ be. He told her…Freddie told her he loved her. Many times. And she'd said it back.

Sam Puckett doesn't tell people that she loves them. Not even once.

What was he _supposed_ to say? He said it because…that's what _everyone_ says when they're given one last second with someone they know?

"I love you, Freddie."

"You don't have to—"

"I know."

And the tears come pouring out and the screams are held inside and the pressure in her brain is overwhelming. Sam feels like she's falling. Her wheelchair broke through the floor and now she's plummeting down eight floors of Bushwell.

Her lungs plead with her to breathe, but the oxygen just doesn't come. Somehow Sam's arms start working and roll the wheels of her chair, out of the room and out of the apartment. Her elbow shrieks with pain every time she pumps, but it's nothing compared to the pain inside of her heart.

* * *

Straight to voicemail.

"Oh my God, oh my God no…no no no…" Freddie says subconsciously.

_Maybe she didn't listen to it and went to get a burrito. Maybe I left the CD in my laptop. Maybe I played it this morning without knowing it. And maybe everything's going to be okay._

Freddie screams and flings his phone at the wall.

* * *

It's over. It's done.

_No it's not. It never will be._

Elevator. Lewbert. Sidewalk. Street. Alley. Street. It all goes by in a blur.

She can't go home, Sam suddenly realizes. He'll find her. He knows all of her places. He knows all of her secrets. Her wants, desires, dreams, goals, fears, problems.

Freddie knows _her._

Sam lets out another sob, hating herself for falling for it. For his words, his charm. They were all lies. He's a lie. What they had was a lie.

She wants to die.

Forget the baby. Forget what anyone else might lose or feel if she goes. Forget life. It's not worth it.

"I love you, Freddie."

Sam screams at herself for replaying her words in her head and veers off of the sidewalk, letting a field of tall grass take her hostage.

_Why did you say it? WHY? You can't take it back! Ever!_

A wheel catches on a small rock in the grasses, and Sam goes sprawling into the dirt. She doesn't care. She's far enough in the field, wherever she is. She's hidden. She's safe.

Sam holds in her screams and yells and cries in order to complete her cover. Just blend in. She needs to blend in with her surroundings.

Sixteen left. Sixteen days left.

Sam wishes that the number were negative four.

* * *

**The stick figure cartoon isn't mine. You can find it on Google. My Solar System class professor showed it to us one day and I thought it was perfect for S&F so I jotted it down.**

**Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter: 'PinaySeddier', 'Kezziexx', 'MegColes', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'SeddieFan99', 'akarandomfang', 'seddie perfection', 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'lauren', 'selfless seddie', 'iShip Seddie', 'Kristi', 'this little heart of mine' (x3), 'Kyle McShade', 'jimbo74', 'hejk12345', 'Winter', 'rimdsloveseddie', 'green aura'.**

'**lauren' – haha that's okay! Thank you! No problem, I love creating scenarios that I wish Dan did :) it is!**

'**selfless seddie' – I know that Freddie's character would make a great father. Haha Sam on a diet is very unprecedented. Teehee, more makeouts is good! Thanks **

'**Kristi' – thank you so much for reading!**

'**Winter' – thanks! **


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Loading

**By next week's chapter, I'll be all moved in to my dorm!**

**Chapter Fourteen: Loading**

* * *

Seth remembers the way she looked in the back of the ambulance. Eyelids closed. Frail and skipping over the line between life and death. Pale and ghostly still. Red hair dull and greasy.

"Kim?" he asks, entering her room. "How are you feeling?"

The young girl blinks twice, waking up. "Where am I?" she mumbles.

"The hospital."

She looks crestfallen. "Oh."

Seth eyes her wrists. "Do you feel like talking about what happened?"

Kim turns her hands over so that her wrists aren't visible. She shrugs.

He sighs. "Well, your mother is here to see you."

The redhead's eyes widen. "No!" she practically screams. "I _hate_ her!"

Seth sits down. "Why?"

Kim looks down. "She made me do it," she whispers.

"Do what?"

Her face turns into the shade of her hair. "The abortion." Tears start falling.

He swallows. "I'm sorry."

And then it's like the floodgates guarding her secrets burst open. "My boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend…convinced me to, um, have sex with him."

"How old is he?" Seth can't help but ask.

Kim falters. "Seventeen."

Seth ignores her lie, assuming that her mother has already filed statutory rape charges against him.

"As soon as he found out I was…" she swallows. "Pregnant, he wanted nothing to do with me. I wanted to keep it," Kim starts crying. "Abortion is wrong."

"Your mother had no right to—"

"She gets away with whatever she wants," Kim interrupts angrily. "She always does. And when it happened…I was just so…"

Seth waits.

"Done. Done with her, with my ex, with everyone. With everything," she adds quietly.

Seth remembers his dad mentioning that Kim is only sixteen.

"I wanted to die, so I made it happen. Well, almost."

The sight of her slit wrists is burned in the back of his mind. "I'm glad you're alive, Kim."

She looks away. "Now it's just going to be worse. With my mom. With my friends and my future and _everything_."

Seth nods. "Starting again can be the worst thing that happens to you or the best thing."

"How would you know?" Kim snaps.

"I just do."

* * *

Carly opens the door, which is practically about to be broken down. "What?" she yells at her friend.

His eyes are wild. "Have you seen Sam? Or talked to her?"

"Why?" her tone is wary.

Freddie rubs his forehead. "I think…I think we just broke up."

Carly is silent for a second. "You '_think_?'"

* * *

"How could you _do _that, Freddie?" the brunette screams.

"I didn't know what I was saying!" he defends. "The Shadow Hammer was baiting me or something; I don't know!"

Carly crosses her arms over her chest. "You still said it! And you'd told her that you never gave up on her."

"I—"

"But you did give up."

"Carly—"

"You know, I don't really care," she bites, standing up. "I have to go find her now before she does something…stupid," she finishes quietly.

Freddie jumps up. "I'll help."

Carly eyes him, knowing the sight of him won't exactly help Sam right now. She quickly thinks of places she _knows_ Sam won't be. "Okay, you go to the Groovy Smoothie and school. I'll check her house and—"

"You did _not_ just give me bogus places." Freddie gives her a glare.

"I don't think she'd really want to see you right now, genius!" Carly shouts. "Just…go home. I'll call you tonight."

"Fine," Freddie snaps, going across the hall and slamming the door. Now he has to wait five minutes until Carly leaves and find Sam himself.

* * *

Sam feels the mosquitos feeding on her blood, but she doesn't really care about West Nile Virus or whatever those things give you. She just lies on top of the scratchy stalks of grass, numb to everything.

Where can she go? She can't just stay here. Well, maybe. Maybe she could just starve to death in a field. That'd be the perfect ending to the tragedy that is her life.

Her stomach rumbles, reminding Sam of the four and a half hours she's been lying there, motionless. She thinks that maybe one of her limbs is falling asleep. The pins and needles come to her in intervals.

Her empty stomach reminds Sam that it isn't empty. It's home to life. A life. A life that she's responsible for.

What does she care?

But she does care. Sam may be many things, but she's not completely heartless.

_I can't let him win_, Sam tries telling herself. _Just get up and show him that you don't need him._

But she told him she loved him, which changes everything. He knows that she needs him.

Sam swears at herself and blinks slowly. She doesn't know what she wants. Her stomach growls again. Food would be nice.

Surprising herself, Sam hoists herself back into the wheelchair. She never thought that she could make it without him. Move without him. Breathe without him.

Just a couple more weeks. Sixteen more days. Then she would be okay.

* * *

Freddie punches the answering button. "Anything?"

"No." Carly sounds disappointed and angry. "I'm going to have to look tomorrow."

She hangs up before he can respond. Freddie huffs and shoves his phone into his back pocket.

He can't remember how Sam does it. Freddie doesn't have a bobby pin or a paper clip or anything. He's looked under the doormat and potted plants, but no spare key announces its presence. Maybe he can climb in through a window.

He circles Sam's house, checking all of the windows in vain. Exhausted, Freddie slumps against her front door and closes his eyes, waiting. When fifteen long minutes go by, he starts crying.

* * *

Food. She knows where food is.

Sam wheels herself through the darkness, alleys, dirt roads, and sketchy shortcuts to her neighborhood. The rundown houses make her feel at home even though the people living in them weren't the friendliest. Or the most law-abiding citizens.

She opens the gate to the front yard and stops. He's sitting on the porch. Even at this hour.

"Mah!" He grunts loudly at her, standing up and wielding his shovel. Sam wheels toward him and whips out her buttersock, her ever faithful weapon. Psycho Sam cowers against the wall of his house, dropping the shovel. Sam smirks.

"Feed me, Psycho."

* * *

Freddie hears Psycho Sam from the back yelping and crashing around on his property, and he sighs. No way would he _ever_ take a shortcut through that man's yard again. He's absolutely nuts.

It's getting close to eleven at night, and he's getting a headache from skipping dinner. So far Freddie has thirty-seven missed calls from his mother, and his phone starts buzzing again in his back pocket. Sighing, he answers.

"Hi mom."

"Fredward! Where are you?"

"I'm out, mom. I'm an adult; I don't need a curfew."

"_Fredward_!" Mrs. Benson shrieks, causing Freddie to wince and whip the phone away from his ear. "Come home right _now_!"

Freddie gives Sam's house a final look and bites his lip. "Okay. I'll be back in twenty minutes." He hangs up.

"Sam, I'm so sorry," he whispers into the darkness. "I love you _so_ much…"

Freddie bets that she's halfway to Canada by now.

* * *

Psycho Sam brings out another package of cookies. "Good," Sam approves, fingering the buttersock. The man eyes her weapon and sits a good ten feet away from her as Sam breaks her forced diet.

"You know, you're not so bad, Psycho." Sam shoves another cookie into her mouth. "Maybe I'll come here more often."

The man is silent, watching Sam's buttersock carefully. The blonde isn't about to put it away; she's not stupid. Her neighbors are either mentally unstable or dangerous. She can't assume that Psycho Sam is only the first.

Sam's phone rings again, and she sighs. She doesn't want her friend having a heart attack.

"Carly, I'm fine."

"Oh thank God!" she breathes. "Where _are_ you? I've looked everywhere!"

"That's classified." Another cookie.

"Sam…"

"Carly, I'm fine. I'm not going to do anything stupid or get into any trouble. I just need some time to myself."

"Um, okay." She sounds shocked by how together Sam is. "Look, I'm really sorry about—"

"Please, Carls. Both of us knew that relationship wouldn't last for long," Sam forces herself to say with a steady voice.

"Well, I—okay," Carly decides not to say what she's thinking. "Are you somewhere safe? You can always come by my place. We have fat cakes and my comfy bed and…" she sighs. "I'm worried."

Psycho Sam starts eying his shovel, so Sam swings around the buttersock, getting his attention and cooperation instantly. "Don't be," she says softly.

"I mean, if you don't want to because you don't want to see Freddie, I get that…I could always come to your place and—"

"I'll think about it Carls."

"Okay."

And it's such a pathetic 'okay' that Sam's heart breaks even more. It's so scared and exhausted and…broken.

"Look, come to my place and spend a night or two. I can be there in a little while."

"Really?" Sam can almost see Carly's eyes light up, and she feels a tiny bit better about herself. "Okay!"

"But don't tell…him." Sam inwardly curses at herself for not being able to say his name. She doesn't _need _him.

"I won't."

* * *

A night or two turns into a week and a half. Sam and Carly sleep inside the former's house and spend the day out of it. They both know who would be knocking there every day.

Sam is surprisingly relieved that Carly knows everything. She might not need Fr—him, but she needs _some_one. Wait—Sam doesn't need _any_one. Carly is just…a crutch.

Carly listens to Freddie's frantic and angry voicemails but doesn't return any of the calls. She's texted him once or twice, but that's about it. She's mad at him. She's mad at him for breaking her best friend: her best friend that _couldn't_ be broken. Or so she thought.

"Do you think you could help me keep this up for five more days?" Sam asks in between sips of her smoothie.

The brunette gives her a tight smile. "Sure."

Sam puts down her drink. "You miss him."

"No, no," Carly blurts quickly. "It's just weird, is all."

"I'm sorry about all this."

"It's not your fault. But if it's okay with you, I want to say goodbye to him before he leaves." Carly awkwardly stirs her drink with a straw.

Sam's chest tightens. "Yeah, sure."

Okay, so Sam _is_ the one avoiding Freddie. She has every right to though, right?

She's gotten his texts. And his voice messages. And his emails. And his handwritten notes slipped under her front door. Sam even got letters from him in snail mail. She's never read or listened to them though. Maybe someday, but not now.

Despite all of her tactics to cut him out of her life, Sam feels empty at the thought of him leaving without actually finding her and pathetically trying to explain himself. It's stupid, since she's doing her all to keep that from happening.

Sam hates dichotomy, or irony, or whatever this is.

* * *

"Mom, I…I really don't want to go to college."

As soon as it leaves his mouth, he regrets it.

"_Fredward Benson_!" she shrieks. Then she sees the expression on her son's face and lowers her voice, just a little bit. "What happened, Freddie-bear?"

Freddie scratches the back of his neck. "I want to help Sam."

"Carly's still going to be here, honey." Marissa Benson grunts, tugging at a zipper that refuses to budge. "Can you help me zip up this suitcase?"

"Mom, I—" he stops. He can't tell her the full situation. That would mean admitting that he went behind her back to date Sam.

"Fredward, help me!"

Freddie angrily tears the zipper, and it immediately obeys and closes the suitcase. Maybe he should just go. It might get his mind off of her, allow some time for the flames to die out. He'd be back for Thanksgiving Break. She won't talk to him now anyway.

He doesn't want her to move on. He doesn't want to lose her. He doesn't want someone else to swoop in and take his place. He doesn't want to live without her by his side.

Freddie sighs heavily. "Should I start loading the car?"

* * *

**Do you remember Kim from any previous chapter?**

**Thanks for the… interesting… reviews last chapter 'Kyle McShade', 'TheAngeloflego', 'MegColes', 'seddie perfection', 'Kezziexx', 'SeddieFan99', 'iShip Seddie', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'lauren', 'PinaySeddier', 'jimbo74', 'Winter', 'irishfan62', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'hejk12345', 'selfless seddie', 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'this little heart of mine', 'Akarandomfang', 'green aura', and 'Megan'.**

'**lauren' – you always find a way to make me smile! Thank you so much!**

'**Winter' – sorry! But thanks :)**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – no worries! Aw, don't be sad! Thank you**

'**selfless seddie' – I'm sorry! Freddie is stupid like that :/ at least my version of him is, heh. Thanks!**

'**Akarandomfang' – haha, I know that word from Spanish class…which is weird because why would he teach us that? but no problem, and thank you!**

'**Megan' – a very common reaction :) grazie **


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Goodbye

**In my dorm with a roommate who I looooooove! :D**

**Chapter Fifteen: Goodbye**

* * *

Carly wakes up, opening her eyes to a peaceful-looking Samantha Puckett next to her in the latter's bed. She smiles and checks the date on her phone. Carly realizes excitedly then guiltily that she moves in to her dorm two weeks from now.

Freddie leaves tomorrow.

Sighing, Carly scribbles down a note for Sam and leaves it on the bed beside her.

* * *

He flings open the door, disappointed that it isn't who he really wanted. "Carly?"

"Hi."

Freddie practically drags her inside. Suitcases and full garbage bags are scattered around the apartment. "How is she? How's Sam?"

"She's okay, Freddie." She notices the bags under his eyes. "How are you?"

He seems surprised by the question. "Uh…I don't know. So much is going on right now." Freddie rubs his eyes and whispers, "And my mom is driving me absolutely _nuts_."

As if on cue, Carly hears a shrill voice coming from deeper inside the apartment. "Fredward! Help me! Tell whoever's at the door to go away!"

They both make a face. "Subtle," Carly comments.

Freddie could care less. "Do you think I could…um, see her?"

Carly is suddenly very tired. "It's not up to me. I hate being the messenger between you two."

To her surprise, Freddie gets tears in his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

Carly opens her mouth, but Mrs. Benson interrupts with, "Fredward Benson!"

"Mom, it's Carly! Just give me a sec!" Freddie yells back, rubbing his neck.

"Let me text her, okay?" Carly says softly.

Freddie attacks her with a hug. "I'm going to miss you, Shay."

She closes her eyes. "You'll be back. But I'll miss you too."

The hug ends, so with a smile, Carly pulls out her phone.

* * *

Seth hops up the couple steps and rings the bell, nervous. She's going to think he's a complete stalker or something. He shifts the envelope between his hands and glances around the porch. Seth sees a squirrel, and the letter stops shifting.

It's just staring at him, like it _knows_. His heart pounds furiously.

The door swings open, and the squirrel scampers off.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous—" the blonde starts.

"I know," Seth cuts her off. "But it's not what you think."

Sam scoffs. "The infamous line."

"I guess our address street names are similar." He waves the envelope. "Your mail was delivered at my house."

Sam snatches the thick paper and glances at the name. Yep, it's for her.

"So now you know where I live," she eyes him warily.

"I'm sorry," Seth starts. "It probably seems like I'm stalking you or something—"

"Yup." Sam's phone buzzes in her hand. A text from Carly.

"But I live on Netwerk Road and—"

Sam's about to open the text but halts, eyes wide at Seth. "Whoa, whoa; you live on _Netwerk_?"

He nods.

"In Forest Park Residences?"

He nods again.

"You must be stinkin' _rich_, man!"

Seth grins, amused by her bluntness. "I guess…"

Sam squints. "You have a pool?"

He laughs, getting a little embarrassed. "Yeah."

Sam's practically giddy with excitement. "And a movie theater room?"

Seth rubs the back of his neck. "Uh…yeah."

"Sweet," Sam breathes, leaning against the doorway.

Seth is desperate to change the subject. "So you look good. Just an arm and a leg to go."

She eyes him. "Yeah. The leg thing comes off the day after tomorrow."

"Don't you need a wheelchair or something?"

Sam shrugs. "I can hop for the next two days." Her phone buzzes again, and she sighs and looks at it.

_Freddie leaves tmrw. He really wants to see you._

Sam swallows and glances at the next text.

_Please._

There isn't a question mark after the 'please,' and Sam's cheeks flush. She knows Carly's texting habits, and she would have put the question mark there. _He_ must have sent that one.

Her thumb hovers over the keyboard.

"Everything okay?"

Seth's voice brings her back, and she blinks. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah."

He clears his throat. "Well, I got the letter to you, so I guess I'm gonna go."

Sam reads the two texts over again, heart aching and hands trembling. She remembers his eyes, and his hair, and his mouth on hers. And his warm skin and soft hands…

She shakes her head. _Stop it._

"So…bye." Seth starts walking off.

"Hey, I didn't give you permission to leave!" Sam shouts after him; angry, but not for that reason.

He turns around. "Um?"

_Screw Fr—him. _

"So is it like, an indoor or outdoor pool?"

Seth smirks, and Sam's surprised that he already knows what she means.

"You can come, but only if you bring the wheelchair. Safety first."

Sam rolls her eyes. "Man, you're like my fa—" but she stops, because that famous saying doesn't work here. Her father would've _never_ said that. Sam's eyes burn.

"Let's just go."

* * *

Carly lets out a shaky breath as she watches her best friend stare at the phone, begging for the text to come.

"Freddie—"

He shushes her. "Just…give her a little more time."

She sighs. "It's been twenty minutes."

"Text her again!" Freddie shouts a little too loudly.

Carly looks away. "Okay, but…"

"But what?"

She fiddles with her thumbs. "Maybe you should've done this sooner. Like, sooner than the day before you leave."

He's incredulous. "Wha—but—I've been texting her and calling and writing and emailing and coming by the house…what more could I have _done_?"

Carly sends the text and throws her hands in the air. "Maybe you should just forget about it!"

Freddie's voice lowers. "What?"

"About her?" Carly poses. "I don't know. It's just…it's obviously not going to work out between you two."

He's glaring at her, head swimming with the question, _How can this be happening?_

"I _love_ her."

"You also said you loved me," Carly insists. "And you obviously didn't know what you were sayi—"

"I do now."

She gets quiet. "I'm sorry, Freddie. Sometimes we just have to let go."

* * *

"Indoor _and _outdoor?"

He grins and turns the steering wheel to the left. "Yeah."

"Dude, why would you ever even _leave_ your house?"

"Good question," Seth tells her. "I like helping people."

"Gag me," Sam retorts.

Seth starts to laugh, but suddenly slams on the brakes, screeching to a halt at the side of the road. Sam's seatbelt locks and digs into her neck as the car lurches forward.

"Dude," she gasps. "What gives?"

Seth's quiet, watching the stray cat as it finishes crossing the road. He seems transfixed by the animal, inspecting the creature's every movement.

"You okay?" Sam asks. He's pale.

"Yeah." He snaps out of it, clearing his throat. "Stupid cat."

Sam almost replies, _You should've just hit the thing,_ but thinks of Frothy back home and stops. Instead, she goes with "Yeah, it's like some animals are just _asking_ to be hit."

Seth sets his jaw and carefully moves his foot over to the gas pedal. "Some."

Sam's phone vibrates again, and she groans.

_Sam? Are you even awake yet?_

Now _that_ one sounds like Carly.

She sends a quick reply and turns off her phone. "Are we almost there?"

* * *

It's short and blunt.

_No._

Freddie's speechless. Carly slowly takes her phone out of his hands. "I'm really sorry—"

"I have to finish packing, Carly," he cuts her off, face darkening. "I'll see you in November."

The door shuts behind her, and the brunette softly says, "Bye, Freddie."

* * *

The next morning, Sam shocks herself by waking up before Carly does. It's only seven thirty in the morning. She groans and plops her head back onto the pillow.

_He leaves today._

She's wide awake now, that little voice in her brain annoying and refusing to shut up.

_What do I care?_

But she does; she _knows _that she does. Sam wants him to touch her and tell her that he loves her and kiss her until she dies. What she'd do to feel his warmth and his skin and his breath…she wishes that she could turn back time to the day of the movie and suggest a different way home.

But she can't and he said it and it's over.

And since Sam is the one who messes up things, she pulls out her phone and sends a text.

_What are you up to?_

She waits a moment.

_Well you're up early._

Sam rolls her eyes, and another text comes in.

_Off work in half hour._

Why does she feel guilty? She has every right to ask. Sam types a response.

_Busy rest of the day?_

She waits.

_No. Hang out?_

Since when is Sam all chummy with Seth? Whatever.

_I guess._

She puts the phone on the nightstand, gets out of bed, and hops to the bathroom. One more day, and she'd be able to walk normally…almost. Thank goodness.

She pees and brushes her teeth. Not well, but she still does it. As she's about to get a fat cake for breakfast, someone knocks on the front door. Sam hops over and turns the handle before realizing who it probably is. Eyes wide, she instinctively lets go of the handle and locks the deadbolt.

"Sam?"

She slides to the floor and presses her palms against her ears, but she can still hear him perfectly.

"Sam, just listen to me," Freddie pleads. "What you heard…it wasn't…I mean, I just—I was flustered and didn't know what I was saying and I love you _so_ much; you have to believe that. I mean, you just _have _to."

Her whole body goes numb. She doesn't feel anything at all.

"I know you're mad and confused and hurt, but please just talk to me. You don't have to forgive me. Just please open the door." He slaps his hand on the door, making Sam jump a little.

"Sam?"

She stares blankly into space.

"Hell, Sam!" Freddie yells and smacks the door again, startling her. "Open the door! Just _talk_ to me! Why are you doing this?"

Because she doesn't want to give in and fall for it again. Especially right before he leaves.

"I've sent you texts and emails and letters and I've called you so many times I've lost count!" Freddie shouts. "Did you even read any of them?"

_No._

Her silence enrages him. "Sam, you're so stubborn! But don't you get it? That's one of the infinite number of things I love about you! How you always fight back and never take no for an answer, and how you always find a way to get what you want. And that's what _I'm_ trying to do now."

All he hears is silence, and he pounds on the door again. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me! And I'm not taking no for an answer!"

Another few seconds of quiet and Freddie starts begging again. "Please. I'm leaving in two hours."

_Two hours, _his words echo inside her. _Two. Hours._

"I love you," he whimpers softly.

Sam gets nauseous, and the room starts spinning. She clutches her stomach and feels the raised burns through her thin shirt.

"I'm not giving up on us. _Ever._"

And with that, Sam crawls to the bathroom to vomit her midnight snack into the toilet.

* * *

"Did you say your goodbyes to the girls?"

Freddie continues staring out the car window, not really looking at anything. "Yeah."

Mrs. Benson glances at him. "It went well, I presume?"

Trees and buildings float on by. "Yeah."

"Good." His mother makes a sharp turn, and a few suitcases in the back shift. "I remember _my_ first time at college…"

And after that, Freddie fully tunes her out.

A few more buildings and pedestrians whip on by, and Freddie sees the Groovy Smoothie sign up ahead. Where he had that awkward slow dance with Carly, and where Sam attacked that tall girl even with a skirt on, and how Sam beat up that bully and put the nerd's glasses back on him. He always knew that soft side of Sam existed, and he always knew that she'd later cover it up with a sarcastic remark or something else that she does best.

He's thinking so deeply about her that when he sees her outside of the Groovy Smoothie, Freddie thinks that he's imagining it. But then he sees that guy Seth sitting at the same table.

He sees red.

Freddie sees the white of her smile, and his face burns with anger and jealousy. He isn't even gone yet, and she seems just fine. _I guess she doesn't need me after all._

_But I need her._

As if in slow motion, Freddie sees Sam pull out her buttersock and Seth burst out laughing. It's not fair. _It's not FAIR! _Seth is learning about her weapon now, while Freddie's personally known its wrath for _years_.

_You seem to move on easy._

Sam doesn't even see the Bensons' car as it passes by, oblivious in her own world. And that kills him. He feels like swinging open the door, jumping out of the moving car, running up to their table, punching Seth square in the face, and kissing Sam no matter how hard she resists. Freddie's hand rests on the door handle.

But this isn't a movie and he probably wouldn't even survive the jump from the car. Freddie cranes his neck around, watching her figure until it becomes a dot in the distance. His heart disintegrates. He tries reassuring himself that he'll be back in three months, but three months is a long time. She'll be different. She'll _look_ different. Sam will be five months pregnant by then. Does Seth even _know_ that?

Freddie closes his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he's crying.

_I guess for now, that this is goodbye._

* * *

**PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! The description says that this **_**is**_** an S&F story, doesn't it? And the 'you seem to move on easy' line is from a song by Britney Spears called 'Everytime.' So don't sue me!**

**Thanks guys! 'Kezziexx', 'SeddieFan99', 'MegColes', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'Himura2323', 'Kyle McShade', 'iShip Seddie', 'seddie perfection', 'PinaySeddier', 'lauren', 'Guest1 Kristi', 'Guest', 'Winter', 'jimbo74', 'this little heart of mine', 'Twnklingsediestr' (x2), 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'irishfan62', 'hejk12345', 'green aura', and 'selFless seddie'.**

'**lauren' – thanks! You're so great.**

'**Guest1 Kristi' – nice! Thank you**

'**Guest' – thanks so much!**

'**Winter' – thanks!**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – hint: check Chapter Ten: Blackout. Thank you!**


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Be Okay

**Chapter Sixteen: Be Okay**

* * *

"So how are you feeling?"

Sam cautiously moves her freed leg around. "Good, considering."

"Make sure you attend all of your physical therapy sessions," she reminds her.

Sam rolls her eyes. "Got it, Doc." She cautiously steps out of the bed and puts her weight on her leg. A stab of pain shoots up and she starts to fall, but the doctor catches her.

"Another thing," the woman grunts, sitting Sam back down. "Use a cane."

Her eyes widen. "You can't be serious."

"I am. And the longer you don't use the cane, the longer you won't be able to walk."

"Whatever." Sam's just glad to have that stupid cast off.

* * *

Freddie takes the framed picture out of a suitcase and places it on the desk in his dorm room. His mother is already back on the road, but not before she disinfected his entire room. Freddie looks at him, Sam, and Carly smiling at the camera, arms slung over each other's shoulders. This was taken less than a year ago. So much has changed.

Nikhil, his roommate from Washington DC, enters the room and glances at what Freddie's looking at. "Hey man, that girl is _hot_!"

Freddie's head whips around, and he glares at Nikhil. "What?" the latter asks.

Freddie sighs. He likes this guy; he seems cool and easygoing. He can't screw up their relationship _this_ early. Freddie supposes that any guy with hormones would say that.

"Sorry. It's cool."

Nikhil flops onto Freddie's made bed. "I'm detecting some past history?"

Freddie shrugs.

"Didn't mean to get on your bad side, man," Nikhil continues. "I just have a thing for brunettes."

His mouth opens and closes. "Brunettes?"

His roommate's eyebrows furrow together. "Yeah. Oh, did you think I meant the blonde chick?"

Freddie nods. He doesn't understand why Sam is always overlooked when Carly is present. How could anyone _not_ want Sam? His chest hurts.

Nikhil picks up a basketball off the floor and spins it around on his finger. "What happened between you two?"

Freddie takes a loud breath. "It's…it's a really long story." Maybe he'll be able to trust this kid someday, but not now. They've known each other for only a day.

"Gotcha."

Nikhil keeps spinning the ball. Something white in the suitcase catches Freddie's eye. A note?

In Sam's handwriting.

_You did what all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't do._

Put her back together.

Freddie rubs his eyes furiously, trying not to show his vulnerability in front of Nikhil. But the same thing keeps echoing in his mind.

_And I'm the one who tore her back apart._

* * *

After Carly drops Sam off at her house after the doctor's appointment, the blonde ditches the cane and tries to walk without it.

It hurts. It hurts _bad_. But Sam Puckett is _not_ going out in public using a cane, for goodness sake.

She keeps stumbling, but refuses to fall. Tears come to her eyes after a few minutes of practicing, and Sam grinds her teeth together. _Come on, you wimp._

Just thinking about having a limp scares her. She's always been the strong one and the girl who can kick the entire wrestling team's butts at the same time. It also leaves her vulnerable. Like someone could take her away again and do the exact same things to her.

Tears start streaming down Sam's cheeks, and she feels sick to her stomach. After three more steps, her bad leg gives out and she crashes to the floor. She hears a thump when her phone falls out of her pocket in the process.

Sam starts screaming and pounding at the floor, yelling at the air about how unfair this all is and how angry and lost she feels. She lets herself cry.

She opens her sticky eyes and sees her phone through the tears. Enough is enough. She needs to move on. She can't keep thinking about him. Sam can't keep avoiding all of his texts and voicemails and emails and letters.

She reaches for her phone and opens the messaging application. Inbox: 86 unread messages. All from him.

Sam takes a deep breath.

_Where are you?_

_You have to let me explain_

_I'm really worried_

_Please talk to me!_

_At least let Carly know you're okay_

_Sam?_

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. And then there are the long texts.

_Sam, you can't listen to that recording. The shadow hammer made it. It's taken out of context. He wanted this to happen. Please talk to me, let me explain. I love you. I DO. And you KNOW that._

_I have NEVER lied to you. I love you. I need you. Remember that one time you stayed over at my place before we were together? It was the first time you wore my clothes. You took my breath away, you still do. Sam, please listen to me. I am here for you, always. _

And so on, and so on.

It breaks her.

_And yet you left,_ she thinks bitterly.

The voicemails say pretty much the same things over and over again. Except they're even more painful to go through. His voice sounds so sincere and frantic. Maybe she's wrong about all of this.

"No!" Sam shouts at herself, almost throwing her phone across the room. _I'm not wrong. I can't be in a relationship. I'm independent. It's how I work. I don't need anyone!_

After she forces herself to listen to thirty-four voicemails, she crawls to her room and opens her laptop. _Just do it. You have to get over this, over him._

Her inbox has twenty-five emails from Freddie Benson. She reads through them all, and all of them hit her like an eighteen-wheeler truck.

_Sam—_

_Please pick up your phone. Talk to me. Text me. Let me know you're alive! I know you think that everything was a lie and that I should go to hell. The second part is probably true. I've made so many mistakes that I can't even list them. But the first part is NOT TRUE. The one thing in my life that isn't a mistake is YOU. You mean everything to me. You're my entire world, my soulmate, my life. I LOVE YOU._

_I've never lied about what I feel for you because it's real. We're real. And under all of that confusion and anger, I know that you know that. I'll give you some time, but I can't leave here without talking to you. I can't leave here if you believe what that tape says. I can't leave here knowing that you hate me._

_Please give me another chance._

Sam reads email after email, trying to make herself believe that the process of getting over him is working. _He did leave without speaking to me. See? He is a liar._

She can usually convince anyone of anything. She once convinced Gibby that the sun was a giant flashlight and that Wendy was a reincarnated mermaid.

But Sam can't convince herself to get over it, to believe the things that she's telling herself to believe.

The letters from snail mail are like the emails but longer. After the third and final letter, Sam's eyelids are heavy with paper dust, exhaustion, and depression. She clumsily limps to her dresser and tugs open her pajama drawer. His white shirt and red and black checkered boxers stare back up at her.

Sam reflects back to the night she took them. They were together then. She was sleeping over that night, a usual occurrence. She woke up the next morning not wanting to change back into her own clothes. It excited her to be wearing his clothes. It made her feel warm and safe and loved. She wanted to wear them every night, even when she wasn't at his place.

She would never ask him to give them to her, though. That would be _way_ beyond embarrassing. He would tease her about it for months.

So she smuggled them out and has had them ever since.

Sam figured that Freddie noticed he's missing a pair of boxers and one of his white shirts, but he hadn't said anything to her. He didn't rub it in her face. He didn't make her feel like a weak little girl.

And that's why she fell for him so hard.

Wiping her eyes, Sam takes his clothes out of the drawer and pulls her shirt and pants off of her sweaty and oily skin. She slips his shirt on and loves the way the waistband of the boxers envelops her with just the right amount of pressure.

She limps across the room and collapses on her bed, shifting her body slowly under the covers. Her good leg pressed against the mattress, Sam lies on her side, curls into a loose ball, and does her best to fall asleep.

* * *

"How's Sam?"

Carly rolls her eyes. "Hello to you too, Freddie."

Freddie groans, feeling impatient but guilty. "Sorry Carls. It's been a long couple days with moving in and adjusting and…yeah."

"It's fine. So is Sam. She got her leg cast off yesterday." Carly taps the speaker option on her cell phone and goes back to painting her toenails.

Freddie blinks. Everything seems to be happening quickly in Seattle and torturously slowly in California. "Oh. Is she walking?"

Carly grimaces. "She tries. It hurts her though. The doctor told her to use a cane, but you know Sam. She'd rather eat glass."

Freddie moves his phone to his other ear. "That's my girl," he says without thinking, and the two of them fall silent for a moment.

"Anyway," Freddie awkwardly clears his throat. "Does she…do you know if she's hanging out with that Seth guy?"

Carly's heart skips a little, and she gushes, "You mean the hot guy with dirty blonde hair and _gor_geous eyes?"

"Sure," Freddie grumbles. "That one."

"I'm not sure." She moves on to the next foot.

"Oh."

"So how's your roommate?"

Freddie glances around Nikhil's side of their room, eying the sports posters and cluttered drawers. "He's actually pretty cool. Really nice and outgoing."

Carly sighs nervously. "I leave in eleven days."

He's thrown off by the sudden change in subject. "I—oh. Please take care of—"

"I will, Freddie! Sam is my best friend too." Carly misses her nail and paints the skin on her toe purple. She reaches for a Kleenex. "But yeah, I—" Her phone beeps. Carly glances at the caller ID and pauses, tissue in hand. "Um, can I call you back?"

Freddie freezes, sensing the tension in her voice. "Wait Carls, is that S—"

_Click_.

He lets out an animal-like growl and punches his pillow.

* * *

"Hey Sam!"

Silence.

"Hello?" Carly sits up.

"C-Carly?" A soft, strained stutter.

All of her senses are on high alert. "Sam? What's wrong?"

She hears Sam howl in pain and burst into tears. "Sam! Talk to me!" Carly leaps out of her seat and grabs her car keys, forgetting about her wet toenails.

"Something's wrong," Sam manages in between gasps.

"I'm coming over, okay?" Carly starts running down the stairs.

"S-something's wrong," Sam repeats, delirious from the pain.

* * *

Carly uses the key Sam gave her years ago and bursts through the front door. "Sam?"

She hears sobbing coming from Sam's room and runs there. The blonde is doubled over in pain on the floor.

"What's happening?" Carly rushes over and kneels beside her.

Sam clutches her lower stomach, moves her hands away, then back again. She doesn't know which position will make the pain lessen.

"R-really bad cramps," Sam groans, and Carly wipes a bead of sweat off of her friend's face. "Carly, I'm bleeding."

Carly freezes. "What?" But she can see the dark red spot seeping through Sam's shorts and onto the floor.

"We need to go to the hospital, Sam." Carly winces as her friend screams in pain again.

"Like, now." Carly remembers her lack of arm strength. "Can you stand up? My car is right out front."

"I'm not sure—AAAAHHHH! No, no I can't do this Carly. Please help me." Sam starts sweating more furiously.

Carly looks around the room frantically, as if that will help. "Look, you're going to have to get up. I'll support you."

"No…"

"You can do it, Sam. It's just a few feet. I'll be doing all the work, okay?" Carly starts begging when her friend doesn't move. "Please, Sam. Get up."

Sam's skin is ghostly pale. "Am…am I—l-losing it?"

Carly shushes her. "No. Come on." The brunette swings Sam's arm over her shoulder and hoists her up, trying to ignore the ensuing screams of pain.

"You're going to be fine," Carly insists as they start limping along toward the front door.

"Fr-Freddie…"

Carly almost stops in her tracks. "What?" It's the first time she's said his name since…

"Help me, Freddie…"

She must be disoriented. _It's going to be okay,_ Carly tells herself.

"It's going to be okay," Carly voices, but Sam keeps whispering the same thing over and over again.

"…Freddie…"

* * *

**Thank you to all of last chapter's reviewers! 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'SeddieFan99', 'Kezziexx', 'MegColes', 'Himura2323', 'lauren', 'irishfan62', 'hejk12345', 'iShip Seddie', 'this little heart of mine', 'selFless seddie', 'jimbo74', 'green aura', 'Megan', 'DanceInPurpleRain', 'Winter', 'Kyle McShade', 'tiffboo85', and 'secretwritergirl'.**

'**lauren' – aw, thanks, as I say every week!**

'**Megan' – ah yes, those strings. Thank you!**

'**Winter' – wow, thanks so much!**


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Hold On

**By the way, I changed Seth's age to twenty-one. I miscounted before, being the idiot I am. If he's starting graduate school but skipped a grade, he'd be 21 going on 22. I fixed it in '24 Hours', so if for some reason you got an email about a story update for that, sorry.**

**Chapter Seventeen: Hold On**

* * *

"It's called a threatened miscarriage."

Carly tears her eyes off of Sam's pale face. "A—a what?"

The doctor gives them a smile. "The baby's okay."

Carly sighs in relief and smiles, but Sam is motionless.

The woman continues talking about how mothers can bleed within the first 24 weeks of pregnancy, resulting in a miscarriage or not. They perform the ultrasound to verify whether the baby is still alive or not.

"I'm going to give you a progesterone hormone supplement, Ms. Puckett."

Sam blinks. "A pro-what?"

"It's a steroid hormone that's involved with menstrual cycles. It helps prevent pre-term birth for mothers at risk, like yourself."

"Okay." Her stomach feels cold now that the pain has stopped. And then it hits her. Sam Puckett, of _all_ people, will now be labeled by the term _mother._

"Believe it or not, this is a miracle."

"What?" Carly asks.

"The degree of bleeding and pain that you experienced, Sam, was extreme. That level usually results in miscarriage, while only mild bleeding and pain is associated with a threatened miscarriage. But you got lucky."

Sam reflects on the irony of the last statement for a few seconds.

"Can I go home now?"

* * *

"A _threatened_ miscarriage?" Freddie echoes.

"Yeah." She shifts her cell phone to the other ear.

"But she's okay now?"

"For the third time, yes," Carly says, rolling her eyes. But a knowing smile creeps onto her face. "The doctor actually called it a miracle."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, she said that Sam should have had a normal miscarriage because of how much pain she had and how much blood she lost."

"Really?" Freddie's voice gets smaller.

Carly tries to recover, realizing that this can't be good for any guilt Freddie feels over what happened between him and Sam. "But she's okay now!"

"I wasn't there to help her."

"Freddie—"

"She needed me!" Freddie insists.

"She wouldn't have accepted your help anyway!"

"I still feel awful. Is she with you now?" He asks hopefully.

Carly picks at the polish on her fingernails. "No. But you can try calling her."

Freddie snorts bitterly. "Yeah. Sure."

"Just keep trying. One day she'll actually pick up, I just know it."

He looks at the class schedule posted on his bulletin board and sighs.

"Okay."

* * *

Sam will admit it: she was scared. She knows that you aren't supposed to bleed during a pregnancy. Pains like that usually mean a miscarriage. So why did she get so "lucky?"

Sam isn't lucky. Just when she thought she made a clear decision about the fetus inside of her, her decision was threatened. Then she tried to feel comfortable with losing the baby. And then the baby was still there and perfectly fine.

She wants things to stay the same for once.

Sam uses the cane to hobble over to her vibrating cell phone on her dresser. She's decided to use the stupid stick, but only when she's not in public. Hopefully her leg will stop hurting soon.

She almost presses the Answer button without checking the caller ID first. When Sam sees the name, her thumb freezes.

_Pick up, you baby!_

_No! It'll end badly just like the last time!_

While Sam battles the screaming in her head, her thumb involuntarily twitches and taps the green button.

* * *

The ringing stops. Freddie waits for Sam's single-worded answering machine—"Go"—to play, but it doesn't. Then he hears a slight crackling.

His eyes practically pop out of their sockets, as does his heart.

"Sam?"

A breath. "Hi." It's soft.

"Hi," Freddie whispers and clears his throat. "How're you, uh, doing?"

Her voice is still very small, and that scares him. "Carly told you what happened?"

"Yeah, and I'm really glad you're okay. Relatively speaking."

"I guess."

Freddie swallows, trying to think of what else he should say before Sam changes her mind and hangs up on him. "That must have been hard for you."

A pause. "What?"

"I know you still weren't sure about keeping the baby versus abortion," Freddie's mind is going a million miles an hour, but his words come out slow and calculated. "And the fact that you almost didn't have to choose, but then it was a false alarm…I just—I guess I just want you to know that I haven't forgotten anything you've told me, and I haven't stopped caring."

A longer pause.

"Hello?" Freddie panics.

"Yeah," Sam rasps.

Relief washes over him. "I haven't."

"Okay."

"You can tell me anything, trust me with anything, and—"

"Stop."

It's barely audible, but it's like a slap to his face. "W-what?"

"Please just…don't say that kind of stuff anymore."

It feels like the walls of his dorm room are closing in on him. "Why?"

"You aren't…_we_ aren't…" she starts.

He waits, but that's all she says.

"I'm not trying to get you to change your mind about, well, you know…" Freddie tries to sound as nonthreatening as possible. "But if something comes up, I don't want you to have to deal with it on your own."

Sam's voice sounds…defeated, almost. "Carly's here."

_No, don't let her get in the way of us._ "I could be completely wrong, but I feel like I know you a little better than she d—"

Her words are low and menacing, like a warning growl of a dog ready to lash out. "You do _not _know me."

He immediately backs off. "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. Please don't hang up," Freddie pleads.

He hears a muffled whimper. "Sam?"

"Why do you have to make this so hard?" she blurts, her voice level rising the tiniest bit.

"Make what hard?"

Then she finally says more than ten words. "I can't…you're always like this…you just sound decent and then…I'm supposed to not…" Freddie hears her trying to keep back tears. "And that's not fair, because you're supposed to be…and I…"

Sam stops. Complete silence reigns the line.

"You're supposed to not what?" Freddie ventures after a while.

She lets out a shuddering breath. "I have to go," she squeaks, her voice hoarse.

"No, please don't!" He doesn't hear a click, and hope stands on the edge of a cliff. "_Please_."

Ten seconds of quiet. And then, "What?"

Freddie can't think of _any_thing to say. _Nothing._

This phone call must hold the world record for the largest proportion of the conversation being utter silence. Because when Freddie is rendered speechless, all Sam can do is sit and wait and keep her hand clamped over her mouth. Because if she doesn't do that, everything will explode out. Because everything will involve tears. And because she cannot, _will_ not, cry in front of him. Not anymore.

She doesn't know why she can't just hang up. Freddie should be grateful that she picked up the phone in the first place, whether it was accidental or not. She could have immediately hung up the phone, but she didn't. And now they're just listening to each other's soft breathing on the other line.

Five minutes must have passed. It feels like hours to Sam. She hears, "Thank you for talking to me."

"I didn't talk much," she can't help but point out, being the stubborn and defiant person she is.

Sam hears him laugh, ever so subtly, and her face gets hot.

"You picked up the phone."

"By accident." She does it again.

"Really?"

Sam nods, and then she remembers she's on the phone. "Yeah."

"Oh." Freddie sounds disappointed, but then she hears another small laugh and, "But you didn't hang up."

She hates how he can practically read her mind. "Yeah."

"Do you, uh, think that when I come home in November, I can see you in person?"

Sam rubs her forehead, then her eyes, and after that the rest of her face. "I—I don't know."

And then he has the nerve to say, "That's okay; there's no pressure. I'm just glad it's a possibility."

Sam hates how kind and harmless he sounds. She knows that it's not true, and she doesn't want to experience that again. And now she's getting sucked right back into it, into _him_.

Desperate to keep the conversation going, Freddie asks, "So you got the leg cast off, right?"

"Bye Freddie."

_Click_.

He doesn't know what pierces his chest more: the sound of her hanging up or the sound of her saying his name.

* * *

A week goes by, and either from the lack of physical activity or lack of going out in public (and using the cane when inside), Sam's leg starts to feel better. The pain is tolerable enough to leave the house without the cane. Just for a little while.

Her immediate idea is to go to Freddie's place. Sam literally takes a step backward; she's so caught off guard. Cutting the ties will be harder than she previously thought.

Carly's apartment? No—she leaves in two days. She'll be busy packing.

Freddie's face pops into her head again, and she blinks and rubs her eyes. "Stop it," she chides herself. "Just _stop_." But her brain isn't listening, so she gets her neighbor's stolen car key off the coffee table and walks to the old, rusty thing parked outside.

* * *

She rings the bell multiple times, but after a few minutes with no one coming to the door, Sam feels exhausted. If he isn't home, she'll never get Freddie out of her head for the rest of the day. On a whim, Sam limps around to the backyard gate. Even though it hurts, she climbs over the fancy brick wall and slides down onto the grass.

Seth is sitting on a chair by the outside pool, staring at something in his hand. The object's bottom shines in the sunlight, and its top is flickering—moving somehow. Sam gets a little closer and sees that it's a lighter. The guy is just staring at the flame, seemingly mesmerized by how it dances around, responding to the breezes of the wind. He doesn't even see the blonde intruder until she's a few feet away and announces her presence with a clearing of the throat.

He practically falls out of the chair, and the lighter snaps shut. "What the—how'd you…hell, Sam! You scared the—well, you know…w-what are you doing here?" he finishes.

"Hello to you too." Sam tries not to limp when she walks to the chair next to him and plops down, her leg cheering at the sudden relief.

"Why'd you break into my house?"

She rolls her eyes and closes them, loving the warmth of the sun. Soon that warmth will disappear as September morphs into October. "Look, I rang your bell a bazillion times and no one answered, so I thought I'd check the back."

Seth is still trying to calm down. "You could've, like, texted me or something instead of giving me a heart attack."

"You know how to take care of that stuff, right?"

He snorts, amused. "You're something else, Sam Puckett."

Sam ignores the compliment, even though the whole point of being here is to _not_ ignore those kinds of things. "I'm going to tell you something, alright?"

"Okay…"

Sam doesn't even know or care if she can trust him or not, but she tells herself that she doesn't care enough about Seth to mind what he thinks of her or how he reacts to this. It's not like she's giving herself away to him like she did with Fr—

She inwardly swears at herself. Now all she can think about is how much she wants him here, how she can't get over him, and how maybe she should've responded differently when she thought he wanted her to…well…"make the most of their time left together."

"Sam?" Seth's voice pulls her back.

She swears at herself again and blurts, "I'm pregnant."

Wow. That came out rather abruptly.

"I…huh?" Seth stutters. "I don't think that's how…I'm pretty sure we didn't, uh…"

Sam bursts out laughing at how bizarre the situation is, how bizarre her entire _life_ is. He just stares at her with wide and confused blue-grey eyes.

"I know we didn't…do that either, buddy. It's, uh…" she falters. "It's the rapist's baby."

Seth blinks. "Oh. Right."

"We're not even together," Sam laughs some more.

"Right," he repeats. The tone of his voice is somewhat off.

They're both quiet for a second, and then he speaks up again. "So you're due in what, March?"

She thinks. "Yeah."

Seth turns toward her. "That must be weird for you."

_You don't know the half of it,_ she thinks. And then, her stupid brain continues with, _Freddie does._

Sam groans and rests her head back against the chair.

"What?" She hears him ask.

"Nothing."

How is she going to get him out of her head? They say moving on requires getting someone else. But she doesn't like Seth in that way. Should she go for it anyway?

Sam hears some clicks and opens an eye. Seth is flicking the lighter on and off repeatedly. After another ten seconds, she's had enough.

"Dude. Would you stop doing that?"

He blinks and pushes it closed. "Sorry. Nervous habit."

"Why are you nervous?"

Seth's mouth opens and closes repeatedly. "I—I'm not. I guess I'm just surprised that you shared something so personal with me."

"Oh." Maybe she shouldn't have told him. She swears, but out loud this time.

"No, it's okay!" Seth quickly reassures her. "I'm just—uh—flattered? No, that's not the right word…"

"I get it. I mean, you would have found out in a few months anyway."

He nods and puts the lighter down on the ground.

"So do you have any secrets?" Sam asks, only half-serious. She's surprised when his body tenses up. It's such a small movement, however, that Sam wonders how she even saw it.

"Everyone has secrets, I suppose." His words are slow, mechanical, and a little too organized.

"Okay then…" Sam gets out of her chair. "Well I guess I'm going to head out—"

Seth lashes out and grabs her wrist a little too tightly, making Sam jump. Her adrenaline is going absolutely nuts throughout her entire body. Memories of the Shadow Hammer torturing her come rushing back.

"Hold on a second."

* * *

**I know I don't usually have long replies to your reviews, and I'm sorry about that. My schedule is even **_**more**_** nuts than last year…I'm working in a lab and actively involved with three other organizations (so far), in addition to 16 credits of classes. And still dealing with my personal stuff. Anyway, I'm going to try to leave longer responses because I REALLY APPRECIATE your reviews to my work!**

**So a huge thank you to 'nadene-seddiefan', 'SeddieFan99', 'iCarlyWriter', 'lauren', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'irishfan62', 'Guest', 'jimbo74', 'akarandomfang', 'Kezziexx', 'PinaySeddier', 'seddie perfection', 'Winter', 'this little heart of mine', 'MegColes', 'green aura', 'secretwritergirl', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'Irene113', and 'selFless seddie'.**

'**lauren' – hey, what matters is that you keep reviewing, and that means so much to me! Haha I hate cliché stories, but Freddie should come flying in with a cape and stop her pain, hahaha. So thank you!**

'**Guest' – haha even though you're 'seddie perfection', I'll reply to this anyway. Yeah, the chapter definitely has a different tone…it's a lot gloomier and serious. Now that Freddie is actually gone, it's kind of all hitting Sam in the gut. So she does feel empty, so I guess that was reflected in the writing style. Or maybe I was in a mood when I wrote the last chapter, haha I don't know. Well, the fall wasn't necessarily what caused Sam's bleeding, but that's definitely a point that I hadn't considered! No problem, don't worry about it! Unpacking? Are you at college now? SO much better than high school, believe me.**

'**akarandomfang' – no worries, we all have hectic lives…and before 24 Hours, I was a MESS at updating regularly. I kept getting distracted or lazy or the works. Not saying you're lazy, by the way, heh. Yeah, Seth's presence is sort of bittersweet for the reader **_**and**_** for Sam. She's not a great decision maker, we are sure of that!**

'**Winter' – thanks so much! You always review, and that makes me grateful and smiley :)**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – haha she's NEVER fine in my S&F stories, but eventually there has to be some resolution…maybe. Thank you!**

'**Irene113' – hey again! Could you just not see a plot to a 24 Hours sequel? I come up with the nuttiest stuff on the spot, though, heh. Well, I'm glad that you came back and got sucked in! aw, thanks so much! I have no ideas for other stories after this one yet, but I'm definitely going to finish TNS!**


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Fear

**Chapter Eighteen: Fear**

* * *

"Let go of my arm _now_." Sam wants to sound tough, but the images she's seeing aren't helping at all.

To her relief, he obeys, and she rubs her wrist, which is now red.

Seth's eyes are huge. "Oh man, I'm really sorry—I'm not sure how I—are you okay?"

"Peachy. Am I allowed to go now, Master?"

"Sam, come on. It was an accident." He searches for something else to say. "My reflexes are always on high alert because of my job, you know?"

She squints at him. "What's your secret?"

Seth pales. "Huh?"

"Don't be stupid. What are you keeping from me?"

"I…nothing."

Sam rolls her eyes. "Fine. See you whenever." She starts toward the gate, and Seth leaps out of his seat. Sam doesn't even turn her head to say, "Don't you even _try_, mister. I have a buttersock."

* * *

A few days pass, and to Sam's dismay, she realizes she's starting to show. She's been pregnant for a little over three months, and it's already almost October. When Carly came home for a visit and saw her bump or whatever it's called, she starting shrieking like a fairy princess, and Sam had to cover her ears.

"You're gonna be a _mom_!"

Sam angrily tugs her shirt back down. "I'm not thrilled about that, Carly. Remember how I got here? Not even to mention the stretch marks, vomiting, and whatever other joys may come my way."

"Sorry," her friend sighs. "I've just always dreamed of having a family!"

"This kid is _not_ gonna be family."

"Huh?"

Sam's arms cross over her chest. "I'm probably going to put it up for adoption."

Carly's eyes pop. "Whaaaaat? Nooooo!"

"What, so now me giving birth to the beast isn't enough for you?"

"You're right." Carly threads her fingers through her hair and sits down on the living room couch. "I'm glad you didn't abort."

"Chizz," Sam suddenly moans, burying her face in her hands. "I'm going to be so _fat_!"

* * *

A lot happened in the next month and a half. Sam got bigger, Carly got involved in school and extracurriculars, Spencer set nine more things on fire, and Sam's leg finally healed. Her phone kept ringing; the two main callers being Freddie and Seth, but Sam never answered. She didn't feel like dealing with it all, especially now that she's getting those annoying stretch marks and awful leg cramps.

Sam also got her elbow cast off, and despite a little soreness, she was officially—and finally—not a cripple anymore.

She doesn't want to think about what will happen in a few months. She knows that it'll hurt, and the inexperience of it all scares her to death.

So while Sam is thinking about everything that could go wrong instead of watching the flickering TV screen in front of her, someone pounds on her door. With a groan—loud enough so she's sure the visitor can hear it—Sam gets up and shuffles to the door.

Seth pushes past her and enters her house. "Okay, what I'm about to tell you—I don't even know why I am—is really important and sensitive information and I really don't want you to judge me on it, I mean this sort of thing can really freak people out and…"

Sam lets Seth ramble on and on and sits back on her couch, not listening to any of it. When the buzzing in her ears finally stops, Sam mutes the TV, looks up at him, and says, "So what's up?"

He sputters like a car running out of gas. "Wha—weren't you listening?"

"Nope."

"Why aren't you picking up your phone? I haven't heard from you in, like, a couple months!"

Sam just shrugs.

Seth sighs and sits next to her. "Okay, you were right before." And then he finally notices her bigger stomach. "Wow."

"Subtle," Sam remarks, following the path of his eyes.

"Sorry. I—uh—is it heavy?"

"Dude, just get to the point!" she bites.

"Right. Well, you were right before."

He stops, and Sam's impatience grows. "About…?"

"Me having a, um, secret."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course I was right. This isn't exactly news, buddy."

Seth huffs. "Do you know what the secret _is_?"

Sam glares at him. "Don't start with me. Especially when pregnant hormones are already getting on my last nerve."

"Right," he eyes her nervously. "Okay, this might scare you a bit."

She sets her jaw. "I'm not scared of anything. Don't be a baby."

"I guarantee you—"

"Oh just spit it out!"

Seth massages his temples. "Okay, okay. Well, when I was younger, my parents noticed certain things about me."

"You wet the bed a lot?" Sam jokes.

Seth pales.

"Seriously?" Her eyebrows fly up.

"Uh, yeah. But that was among…other things."

"Like what?"

"I…well…I was usually an outgoing kid, but after a while I just, I just wanted to be alone all the time and hated people in general."

Sam rolls her eyes. "Story of my life. I'm not scared, dipwad."

"I'm not done." Seth clears his throat. "I liked fire. A lot." Sam gets an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "After I found my dad's lighter, I burned stuff all the time."

"Okay…well we all have our quirks…" Sam tries.

"I—uh…" Seth rubs his eyes and keeps covering them with his hands, ashamed of what he knows is coming next. "I hurt a lot of things."

"What?"

"Animals. I…I tortured animals."

Sam's chest freezes over. "You—you're a _serial killer_?"

"No!"

She springs off the couch and backs away from him, instinctively placing her hands over her stomach. "Yeah, you are!"

"No!" Seth frantically repeats, standing up. "My parents put me through therapy and specialized care, and I got better!"

"You work in a hospital, for crying out loud!" Sam shrieks. "How many people have died under your care?"

"It's not like that!"

"Oh yeah? Then what's it like, huh?"

Seth takes a step toward Sam and she backs away even further. "I work in hospitals and I'm going to med school because I've _changed_!"

"You can't just…_change_ something like that!" Sam insists, standing on the opposite side of the couch as Seth.

"I want to help people now to make up for what could have been!" Seth shouts. "That's why I hate people that do things like what that man did to you! That's why I l—" he stops, eyes wide.

"Why what?" she asks carefully.

"Nothing."

"Why _WHAT_?"

Seth throws his hands up in the air. "I don't know! Why I was…drawn to you so much? I wanted to help!"

Sam clenches one of her fists while keeping the other hand on her belly. "I'm not some charity case you can fix! And that doesn't even make sense!"

"Sam…" he starts, trying to walk around the couch to her.

"Don't touch me! Get away from me!"

"You promised not to judge me!"

"I didn't promise anything!" But she did lie about not being scared of anything. Because this boy now _terrifies_ her, and some kind of motherly instinct is making the fear even worse.

They're practically running in circles around the stupid couch, yelling and screaming at each other, when Sam's front door bursts open.

"What's going on here?"

Sam halts in her tracks, his voice shattering the basic sense to keep running away. This allows Seth to approach her and touch her arm.

She shrinks against the wall, shrieking and telling him to stop and to leave her alone.

"HEY!" she hears, and she can't help but slide to the floor at the sound of his voice. It's _him_. What is he _doing_ here?

"Get out of here, _now_!"

"I didn't do anyth—"

"I don't really care! Get _out_!"

"But—"

He grabs Seth and shoves him out the front door. "Don't even _think_ about coming back, you hear me?" he yells, slamming the door and locking it.

Silence.

"Sam?"

Sam has curled her knees as far into her chest as they'd go, providing a barrier for her stomach. She doesn't dare look up.

"What happened?"

And since his steps are getting closer and it's too hard of a temptation to resist, she looks at him. She looks at Freddie.

"Did he hurt you?"

She's speechless. He's a little tanner but other than that, he's the same. He's still Freddie.

"Please talk to me." He kneels beside her.

She swallows and blurts, "Thanksgiving is _next _week."

"I know." Freddie brushes a strand of her blonde hair back. "I wanted to come home early."

Sam hates this. She doesn't want him to see her so weak and vulnerable. But on the other hand, she feels so safe and relieved that he kicked Seth out that she feels like bursting into tears.

"Oh," is all she can say.

"Did he hurt you?" he repeats.

"I—no. No."

Sam hears his sigh of relief and feels like melting away.

"What happened?"

"I don't really feel like it right now, Freddie."

His heart jumps at the sound of his name. "That's fine. It's okay." He delicately rubs her back with a hand and observes her response, relieved when she doesn't scream at him.

"Why are you here so early?"

Freddie can't even believe she's acknowledging his existence. "I wanted more time here. A few days aren't enough."

Sam takes a loud and long breath. "You're missing classes?"

"I'm a real rebel, huh?"

Her sharp exhale of amusement puts a huge smile on his face.

_Okay, keep going Freddie. Stay on her good side._

"I'm sorry I just barged in here. I was going to knock, but then I heard screaming and I just…I got this bad feeling."

"It's fine."

Freddie's surprised that she didn't say "whatever" instead. Does he actually have a chance?

"Stop me if you want," he starts cautiously. "But I missed you."

Sam gets goose bumps, and she isn't sure what he means. Missed her as a friend? As a girlfriend?

She doesn't say anything.

"You look really good."

"I'm fat," she blurts, and then swears at herself. That's _definitely_ what a guy wants to hear a girl complain about.

But he just laughs. "You're glowing."

Sam makes eye contact and quickly breaks it. "I'm _what_?"

"Isn't that what people say when someone's pregnant?"

"Oh. Right."

His hand falls away from her back, and she feels cold. "This is going to sound incredibly weird, but is it okay if I hug you?"

Why can't she just give in to him? She wants to _so_ badly that it hurts. She wants _him_ so badly that it hurts.

Without a sound, Sam slowly turns and rests her forehead on his shoulder. Freddie's strong arms immediately wrap around her, and she feels like crying.

She _missed _him.

Sam's eyes let out silent tears; she doesn't dare make a sound. She's pretty sure Freddie notices his shirt getting wet and clinging to his skin, but he doesn't bring it up. He just pulls her in tighter and lays a hand on the back of her head, playing with her hair.

"I'm sorry."

His breath trickles over the skin on the back of her neck, and she shivers.

"I'm so sorry."

And then she whispers it without a thought.

"Me too."

* * *

They finally let go of each other a full ten minutes later and start talking.

"You're cast-free."

Sam gives a tired smile. "You have no idea how good it feels."

"Does anything still hurt?"

"My elbow twinges sometimes. The doctor says that the pain will probably be permanent."

Freddie senses her anger and gets angry too. "I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "Better than being in a body cast."

"At least it isn't your buttersock arm."

Sam smiles a little. "Yeah."

He loves just talking to her, but Freddie's dying to ask the questions burning in his mind.

"Sam, I'm really glad we're on…better terms now, I guess."

She nods slowly, knowing what's coming but not knowing how to run from it.

"I don't know if you still…you know, but I still do. I never stopped. I was in a really bad place when that tape was made, and I did lie to you, and that was wrong. I just—I hate what the Shadow Hammer turned me into. I tried to manipulate him by doing some stupid things and saying some stupid stuff, but it obviously didn't do anything—"

"I'm alive," she quietly interrupts.

"What?" Freddie recovers his breath.

"I'm still alive." She forces herself to look at him. "It did do something."

He places a hand below her ear on her jaw, and Sam fights the urge to lean into it, heart pounding. "You're just…you're so strong. I don't know how you do it."

Sam isn't sure how to respond, so she doesn't.

"I love you," Freddie suddenly blurts. His eyes widen. "Punch me if you want to; it's okay."

_Just say it. Just let go and allow yourself to fall._

"I…I can't…"

"It's okay," Freddie says again. "You don't have to. I just needed to say it." He should tell her that they can be just friends for now, but he just can't say it. Because that wouldn't be okay with him. He needs _all_ of her but realizes that it could take some time.

Sam lets him hug her again, and starts sweating when she feels him kiss the top of her head. Why can't she just give in?

"Freddie?"

He's so happy to be with her that it's hard not to just kiss her. So close, yet so far away.

"Yeah?"

Sam opens her mouth to say it, but can't. Fear takes over.

"Never mind."

* * *

**No real note this time…too much schoolwork! 'Julziexx3', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'SeddieFan99', 'PinaySeddier', 'SquishyTeddyBearsOfAwesomeness', 'Kezziexx', 'Kyle McShade', 'irishfan62', 'Himura2323', 'lauren', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', 'jimbo74', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'this little heart of mine', 'Irene113', 'Winter', 'seddie perfection', and 'green aura'.**

'**lauren' – aw, haha thank you! Yeah I wanted to bring out the bitter irony of it.**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – haha definitely not romantic but it was a start. And yeah, Seth might have some darkness of his own, we know that now! Thanks so much!**

'**Irene113' – okay, thanks! Oh yeah, Seth irks everyone :) yeah, this weekend I'm going to be doing work nonstop…ergh. Thank you for reading!**

'**Winter' – aw, thank you!**


	20. Chapter Nineteen: The Entire Way

**Chapter Nineteen: The Entire Way**

* * *

She won't say it, but he knows.

He knows.

"Sam—"

"No."

Freddie lets out a sad sigh. "Why?"

She knows that she should move out of his arms, but she just can't.

"I can't just…_forget_."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I can't just forgive you either."

He closes his eyes. _Stubborn._ "Why not?"

Sam glances at his strained face. "What, so you decide to come back and I'm supposed to fall in your arms and pretend that we're okay now?"

Freddie panics and tries humor. "Well, you're halfway there."

Big mistake.

She shoves him off of her and scrambles to her feet.

"Sam, I'm—"

"What do you take me for?"

Freddie stands up, and she takes a few steps away. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Sam glares at him. "You shouldn't have said a lot of things."

"I shouldn't have hidden that tape from you." He tugs at his brown hair.

"You lied _so_ many times right to my face."

"I know. I was wrong."

Sam massages her eye sockets and sighs. "We're not okay."

Freddie is almost speechless. "I…I know that too."

"You don't. You were just talking about how we're on good terms now."

He tries to get eye contact and succeeds after a few seconds. "Better. Not good, but better."

Sam unconsciously starts rubbing her protruding stomach. "I hate this constant drama. I have enough to deal with right now."

Freddie's about to say something, but then something occurs to him. "Sam?"

"What?" She sounds tired, not angry.

"Where's your mom?"

Her beautiful face falls. "I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"Sam, it's been half a year."

"I _KNOW_!" she suddenly explodes. "That's her thing! She can do whatever she wants, and so she does!"

He gives her one of those looks. "I'm sorry."

Sam begins ranting. "Carly's starting a new life at college, Melanie's achieving a new level of perfection at NYU, Gibby somehow got into college, and me? I'm just…_stuck_ here!"

Freddie takes a couple of slow strides toward her. "Give me the word and I'll stay."

She's confused. "In my house?"

"No. In Seattle."

Sam's face flushes. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what, Sam?" Freddie raises his voice. "Trying? Caring? Loving you?"

She slaps her hands over her ears. "Don't say that anymore."

"I love you."

"No!" Sam whimpers.

He swiftly closes the distance between them. "And I know you still love me too."

"No…"

Freddie removes her hands from her face and clenches them in his. "I'm not making any excuses. The Shadow Hammer got me flustered and recorded me saying things I didn't mean."

Sam isn't looking at him.

"You were singing 'Rainy Zurich' by The Fray," he blurts.

Something in her chest tightens. "What?"

"You were leaving Mouthpiece Tunes Music Store."

Sam's eyes widen and look up at his.

"And I just…knew. I figured out why I felt different around you for the last—I don't even _know_ how long."

She swallows.

"One of the best days of my life," Freddie finishes.

Sam is very still for a moment, and starts shaking her head.

"Look, I know relationships and emotions aren't exactly your thing, okay?" Freddie begins again. "But you don't have to be worried about it with me. Because nothing's going to change. And—"

She holds up a hand, and he shuts up as her eyes attack his. "You talk a _lot_."

Freddie isn't sure how to interpret that. "Uh…yeah…"

Sam nods, thinking to herself. "Okay."

"I—okay?"

She turns red and looks down. "Well I guess if it's going to shut you up, then I'll say okay."

"So…you…"

Sam is visibly nervous, and she keeps digging her toe into the floor. "Take your word for it, I don't know. Whatever."

He almost starts crying from relief and hope. "Oh. Okay. I—um, we—it…we can go slow if you want…"

Sam's lustful desires overcome her, so she quickly puts a hand behind his ear and kisses him before she can feel any more embarrassed about it.

_Hell, even _she_ knows I can't take this slowly. _Freddie wraps his arms so tightly around her waist that his elbows are almost touching each other behind her back. Sam shifts her weight to the balls of her feet, and Freddie's strength almost lifts her off the ground as he deepens the kiss and pushes harder, making her back arch. Her extended stomach is pressed into his, and for some reason, Sam can't think of anywhere else that would be safer for her kid.

"Give me the word," he whispers when his mouth rarely separates from hers. "And I'll stay."

But she doesn't answer since her entire body is exploding with ecstasy—now that she finally let herself give in.

* * *

_How can he love someone who's pregnant with a psychopath's kid?_

Freddie has already fallen asleep beside her, but Sam is wide awake in her bed. She doesn't get why he refused to do…_it_…with her when he's wanted her for so long.

They had moved to her room and her bed, and she'd started undoing Freddie's belt. He pulled away and asked her what she was doing, and she just looked at him. And he had the nerve to say: "I want you to be absolutely sure before we do this. When it's time, we'll know."

"Don't you…want to?" she'd faltered.

Freddie kisses her and hooks his belt back on. "You have _no_ idea. But I don't want you to regret it. I need to know you're a hundred percent sure."

"What makes you think that I'm not right now?"

He'd laughed and brushed her hair back. "It's my first day home, and _our_ first day…back. I don't want you to get caught up in the moment." He kissed her nose. "But believe me, you're breathtaking. I just don't want to ruin anything between us." He'd laughed again. "Besides, you might just be hyped up on hormones."

Sam snaps out of the memory and looks at his serene face. She buries her face in his neck and drapes his arms over her. She wonders what he's going to think when this kid arrives in a few months. When she gives it up to strangers. He should know that she's not ready to take care of a kid. She doesn't even know _how_ to. Her mother sure as hell didn't teach her.

She's scared. And she _hates_ that.

Sam kisses his warm skin and waits for sleep to come.

* * *

When Freddie wakes up, she's patiently looking at him, watching him. He smiles. "Hey."

"I don't know what to do."

He rubs his eyes. "About what?"

"This kid. I have no _idea_ how to raise one."

Freddie reaches over and pulls her waist closer to his. "I'll help. Carly can help. I'm sure Spencer knows some things. And obviously my mom kn—"

"Oh _hell_ no," Sam interrupts.

Freddie laughs and kisses her jaw. "I figured you might say that."

"What about adoption?" she poses quietly.

"Whatever you think is best," he responds without hesitation.

Sam studies him, sighing. "Why do you have to be so…_you_?"

"Ouch," he smirks.

"You're too…perfect. Like Melanie. You two should start some world hunger organization or whatever."

Freddie rolls his eyes. "So are you leaning toward adoption?"

Sam falters. "Well, I don't know." _Yes._ "I mean, it's a psycho's kid. The guy who _raped _me made it." Her voice darkens and drips with anger.

He massages her shoulder. "I know that wherever the baby ends up, he or she will be happy and never know what his real father did or what he was."

Sam has a split image of her and Freddie taking care of the kid, being its parents. She grins for a second.

"What?"

_Chizz. _"Nothing. You're right."

He hugs her tightly and gets out of the bed. "How about I make you breakfast?"

Sam slaps a hand over her eyes and groans, "Oh God."

Freddie laughs as he leaves the room.

* * *

Two weeks slip by as if they were two seconds. Freddie went with her to another prenatal appointment, and everything was normal. Sam doesn't want to know the sex of the baby yet, though. She doesn't know why.

Sam didn't want him to leave. But he had to; she got that. Less than a month, and he'd be back.

Sam comes home after driving back from the airport, numb and tired. She parks her neighbor's car on the street, gets out, and starts walking up to the porch.

"Hi."

She practically has a heart attack and clutches her chest. "_God!_" she shrieks, glancing to her left, where Seth is waiting patiently for her on the porch. "What are you doing here? Go away! I still have the buttersock, and don't think that I can't whoop your butt just because I'm pregnant."

"Hey, wait a minute; calm down!" Seth protests. "I just wanted to apologize."

"You didn't have to do that in person," Sam grumbles.

"Well, you haven't been texting or calling me back."

Sam tilts her head back and forth. "True."

"So here I am."

"Yeah," she squints at him.

Seth eyes her too. "I'm not going to go all psycho on you, so relax. Just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"You've done it twice now, so leave already."

"I was hoping we could still be friends."

Sam's eyebrows shoot up. "Still?"

Seth's caught off guard. "Uh…yeah…aren't we friends?"

Now that she has Freddie back, Sam doesn't have any use for this guy anymore, however bad that sounds. Sam isn't the person to look for new people to hang out with, and the only reason she hung on to this guy was to get over Freddie. Since that's obviously not happening, she just doesn't want this guy in her life anymore. Especially after what he told her about his sketchy childhood.

So Sam decides to do what she does best: lie.

"Look, I didn't want to mention this before, but you remind me of what happened to me, you know, with the Shadow Hammer guy. So I'm uncomfortable being around you and don't really want to be anymore."

Seth blinks, stung. "Oh."

"So I don't really want to be friends." She gauges his reaction. "And don't even think about coming into my house and killing me with an ax in my sleep—"

"No, uh, I understand," he interrupts slowly. "But…how come you led me on?"

"How come I _what_?"

"Well, you acted like you wanted to hang out all the time before."

_Ah. Chizz._

"I guess…I was trying to get over my anxiety but I just can't, so…yeah."

Seth takes a breath. "And this isn't about my past?"

Sam almost bursts out laughing at how right and wrong he is at the same time. "Nope."

He's still stunned as he stumbles off the porch and approaches his car across the street. "Bye, I guess."

Sam fingers the buttersock in her pocket. "Yeah."

* * *

"_WHAT? _Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Sam holds her cell phone farther away from her ear and winces. "Because I knew you would pathetically try to punch him out and fail miserably."

She can practically see Freddie roll his eyes. "I could take him."

"Not if he still has serial killer tendencies, you couldn't."

"Sam, I don't want you seeing him anymore. He's dangerous."

"Don't worry, Dad," she teases. "I told him I didn't want to be friends anymore."

"Yikes."

"What?"

"You're referring to me as your dad."

"Oh shut up," Sam retorts, but she's grinning.

"When did you tell him you didn't want to be friends anymore?"

She thinks. "Uh, two weeks ago, maybe?"

"And he hasn't tried to contact you?"

"No. He's not a stalker. And even if he was, I have my buttersock."

"Were."

"Huh?"

"It's 'even if he _were_.'"

Sam sighs loudly. "When you come back in a couple weeks, I'm going to get you for that."

"Oh, you are, are you?" Freddie whispers huskily.

"Oh shut up," Sam says again, goosebumps flooding her skin.

* * *

"Hey T-Bo."

"Hey Sa—wooooooah dude!" He exclaims when he turns around and sees her stomach. "You have…a…I—you look…good?"

Sam rolls her eyes. "Just get me a blueberry blitz. I have money," she adds when T-Bo looks around for Carly.

"Lemme see it," he insists skeptically.

She sighs and complies. When he goes to make it, Sam turns around and rests her elbows against the counter. Her bad arm twinges, and she cringes and leans her back on the counter instead.

And there's Seth, staring at her from a table across the room.

Sam's blood runs cold.

He continues looking at her for a few seconds, sips his smoothie, and gets out of his chair.

"Hurry up, T-Bo!" she calls over her shoulder. Her heart pounds furiously when it seems like he's going toward her, but Seth moves off to the side and exits the Groovy Smoothie without a word.

Sam tries calming herself down since he didn't do anything and it isn't like he followed her there, but she can't. T-Bo says her name three times before she hears him, takes her drink, and goes back to "her" car, looking over her shoulder the entire way.

* * *

**If you haven't read my profile, you don't know that I'll be going on a possibly permanent break from FF after this story is finished. I thought the issues I have were better, but they aren't, so I really need to focus on the vital things in my life. I'm really sorry.**

**I really appreciate 'Kyle McShade', 'SeddieFan99', 'SquishyTeddyBearsOfAwesomeness', 'nadene-seddiefan', 'irishfan62', 'Himura2323', 'jimbo74', 'Twnklingsediestr', 'Winter', 'Megan', 'this little heart of mine', 'akarandomfang', 'lauren', 'Julziexx3', 'LyshaLuvsSeddie', and 'green aura'.**

'**Twnklingsediestr' – teehee yeah. Seth was on the road to possibly becoming like one of the unsubs on "Criminal Minds," but he got the help he needed. That's why he can't stand actual serial killers because he feels that if he could resist those urges, they can too. He accepts no excuses or background stories from them. And thank you!**

'**Winter' – yep! Well, he isn't really a creep. He had a sketchy childhood, but he got the help even though children in those stages **_**really**_** don't want it. He overcame those thoughts and fantasies and now Seth can't stand people like the Shadow Hammer. He believes that they could have prevented their thoughts from turning into actions by seeking help like he did.**

'**Megan' – thanks!**

'**akarandomfang' – no problem, that's weird…Thanks! But Freddie isn't completely in the picture and Seth isn't completely out of it yet :)**

'**lauren' – teehee glad I could make you happy. I definitely agree with the fact that torturing animals is BEYOND wrong, especially since I believe eating them is wrong too :/ but Seth was smart enough to let therapy help him, so now he hates people who don't get the help they need instead of killing people, like the Shadow Hammer.**


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